WANDERINGS 

AMONG 

E HIGH A L 



WANDERINGS 

M 

AMONG 



THE HIGH ALPS. 




OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BAKBISTEB-AT-LAW. 



My joy was in the wilderness, to breathe 
The difficult air of the iced mountain's top, 
Where the birds dare not build, nor insect's wing 
Plit o'er the herbless granite. 



LONDON: 

RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET 




BY 





M.DCCC.LVI. 



LONDON : 

Printed by Scbulze and Co., 13, Poland Street. 




/ 



o 



.TO 

MY GUIDE AND FRIEND, 

AUGUSTE BALM AT, 

MY TRIED AND FAITHFUL COMPANION, 
IN MANY DIFFICULTIES 
AND SOME DANGERS, 
I DEDICATE THESE PAGES, 
WITH FEELINGS OF 
HEARTY RESPECT AND AFFECTIONATE REGARD. 

A. W. 



PREFACE. 



My aim, in the following pages, has been twofold ; on 
the one hand, to convey some idea of the glories of the 
higher and less accessible regions of the Alps, and if 
possible to stimulate others to seek £hose magnificent 
scenes amongst which I have myself passed some of my 
happiest days ; on the other, to point out some few of 
the more interesting excursions which lie almost at the 
traveller's door, at such places as Chamouni and Inter - 
laken ; but which, from the routinism or apathy of the 
inhabitants, are hardly known to themselves — much less 
to strangers. I have tried to make my experience prac- 
tically useful to the pedestrian, by inserting those par- 
ticulars with regard to guides, expense, and the special 



vii 



PREFACE. 



difficulties of each expedition, which it is always his first 
care to ascertain. 

It has always appeared to me that ladies might see 
much more of the grander scenery of the High Alps 
than they usually do ; and it will be a pleasure to me, 
if I have succeeded in showing, by the instances recorded 
in the following pages, how much it is really practicable, 
with due care and sufficient precautions, for one of the 
gentler sex to undertake. The expedition which forms 
the subject of Chapter II is as feasible for any other 
lady, as for the lady who actually performed it — -who is a 
fair, but by no means a particularly good, walker. 

On this, as on many other occasions, I was in- 
debted for much of the pleasure and success of the 
enterprize, to the care, prudence and good management 
of Balmat. I have no fear that any one who knows 
him will think that I have spoken in exaggerated terms 
of his merits ; but it is only due, both to him and to 
myself, to mention that I have had the amplest oppor- 
tunity of knowing him, and of testing both his capacity 
as a guide and his worth as a man. It will be seen that 
among the Alps we have encountered together both 
difficulty and danger; and in the winter of 1854-5, he 
was an inmate of my house, under circumstances very 
trying to himself, for more than three months. He 



PREFACE. 



ix 



had hardly set foot in England, when he was assailed 
by a very severe attack of ophthalmia. It required the 
utmost skill of the oculist to save his eyesight, and 
during the long and wearisome confinement which 
ensued, I never heard one murmur or one expression of 
despondency escape his lips. He had the singular ad- 
vantage of being selected by Professor Forbes, as his 
attendant throughout his protracted series of observations 
on the Mer de Glace and in other parts of Switzer- 
land — a companionship by which (as will be seen) he 
has largely profited — and equally honourable testimony 
to his intelligence and his character is borne by that 
distinguished writer, both in his "Travels through the 
Alps and Savoy," and in the chapters on Switzerland 
appended to his " Norway and its Glaciers." 

The illustrations are from the pencil of my wife. The 
views of our encampment at the Tacul and from the 
Gumihorn were taken on the spot. The two views of 
the final ascent of the Wetterhorn have been drawn 
from description, with such assistance as I could render, 
by way of suggestion and correction, during their pro- 
gress; but they are more successful as accurate repre- 
sentations of nature than could reasonably have been 
expected, and have caught the exact character of the 
scenes depicted. Neither is in the slightest degree 



X 



PREFACE. 



exaggerated^ and the view of the actual crest and the 
overhanging cornice could hardly have been more true 
to the reality, had it been taken on the spot; though, 
of course, every attempt to delineate such scenes must 
fall far short of the grandeur and sublimity of nature. 

With regard to the botanical notices occurring in the 
following pages, as I should be unwilling to affect a 
kind of knowledge which I do not possess, I must ex- 
plain that I am no botanist. It has been my habit, 
however, to make collections of the wild flowers of the 
different localities, which I have carefully preserved, and 
which have been named for me by my friend, Mr. James 
Atkins, of Painswick, a gentleman known in the botanical 
world, in whose company I had the advantage of 
travelling for six weeks, in 1852, and who has kindly 
furnished me with the matter contained in the appendix. 
As the flowers have been secured in their places as 
soon as they were dry, and a memorandum made of 
where they were found, I have the best reason for re- 
ferring them to the localities to which I have ascribed 
them : and imperfect as the notices must be, I hope 
they may still be acceptable to those who are interested 
in botanical pursuits. If I have sometimes mixed the 
common and the rare with an unphilosophical want of 
discrimination, it must be remembered that I have looked 



PREFACE. 



xi 



upon nature with the eye of a lover of the picturesque 
rather than of a botanist, and I have an excuse in the 
feeling so touchingly expressed by a great poet : — 

" While allured 
Erom vale to hill, from hill to vale led on, 
We have pursued, through various lauds, a long 
And pleasant course ; flower after flower has blown, 
Embellishing the ground that gave them birth, 
With aspects novel to my sight ; but still 
Most fair, most welcome, when they drank the dew 
In a sweet fellowship with kinds beloved 
Eor old remembrance' sake."* 



* Wordsworth. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE COL DU GEANT. 



Regulations of the Chamouni Guides — Col de Vosa — Col cle Balme 
—Reconnoitring Excursion to the Jardin — Preparations — Night 
at the Montanvert — Beautiful Moonlight Scene — Start for the 
Col du Geant — Sunrise upon the Mer de Glace — " Pierre 
L'Echelle "— " The Difficulties "— " The Dangers "—Fall into 
a Crevasse — Arrival at the Col — Difficult Descent— Guides- 
Expense 1 — 32 



CHAPTER II. 

A NIGHT ON THE MER DE GLACE, AND A LADY^S VISIT 
TO THE JARDIN. 

Giving the " Chef-Guide " the slip — How to carry Cream in the 
Mountains — Dangers of the Glaciers — Arrival at the Tacul — An 
Airy Lodging — " Difficulties " of the Col du Geant revisited — 
Supper on the Moraine — Night among the Glaciers — A Cold 
Bath — Useful Coffee-Pot — Sunrise on the Mer de Glace — Les 



XIV 



CONTENTS. 



Egralets — The Jardin — Return to the Montanvert — Descent 
to Chamouni in the Dark — Remarks — Desirable Arrange- 
ment 33—60 



CHAPTER III. 

THE INUNDATIONS OF 1852. 

St. Remy — Heavy Rain— German Students and Noisy Italians — 
The St. Bernard — The Morgue — Descent in the Rain — Swollen 
Stream — Tidings of Disaster — Broken Bridge. — Night at Sem- 
branchier — Mountain Walk to Martigny — Aspect of the Valley 
of Trient— Mud Torrent— Col de Balme— Bad Quarters— The 
Valley of Chamouni — Destructive Ravages of the Flood — 
State of the Road to Geneva — Bonneville — Rapid Rise of the 
Waters 61—84 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OE CHAMOUNI EXPEDITION BENEATH 

THE AIGUILLES OE MONT BLANC. 

Beautiful View from the Charmoz — Excursion from the Montanvert 
to the Glacier des Bossons — Bad Guides, and Dangerous Walk 
beneath the Glaciers — Wild Mountain Tarn — The Pierre l'Echelle 
-—Glacier des Bossons — Rain and Snow — The "Reglements" 
again — New Ground for Explorers ... 85 — 95 

CHAPTER V. j 

PASS OE THE MONTE MOEO. 

La Burca — Marmot for Supper — A Rainy Day — Mending Stockings 
— Sunrise upon Monte Rosa — The Monte Moro — A Glissade — 
Arrival at Saas — Remarks — Botany . . . ' ^96 — 107 



CONTENTS. 



XV 



CHAPTEE VI. 

THE VALLEY OP SAAS AND THE VALLEY OF PEE. 

From Visp to Stalden — Sudden Arrival of Autumn — Butterflies — 
Sour Bread and Garlic — Stalden to Saas — Change of Climate — 
Avalanches and Assassins — Saas — The Inn — A Model Kitchen 
— The Cure — Yalley of Fee — Annual Fete — A "Strapping 
Woman" — Fee-Gletcher-Alp — Advance of the Glaciers — Flora 
of the FeeAlp— -La Tete — Glacier of Fee— Ancient Glaciers — 
The Balfrin — Crossing the Bider Glacier under Difficulties — 
Dangerous Descent — The Allelein Glacier . . 108 — 138 

CHAPTEE VII. 

PA.SSAGE OF THE ALLELEIN GLACIER PROM ZAAS TO ZERMATT. 

Start by Candlelight — Mountain Sheep — Perilous Scramble — Basin 
of the Allelein Glacier — Garlic — A Theological Guide — Deep 
Snow — Precipices of Ice — Kindness of the Cure — Yalley of 
Tasch — Hunting the Marmot — A Eace — The " Strong Man of 
Saas"— The Cure's Night-walk— Yalley of St. Nicholas— Yiew 
of the Matterhorn— Zermatt — Eemarks . . 139 — 154 

CHAPTEE VIII. 

THE PASSAGE OF THE FINDELEN GLACIER, OR COL IMSENG, 
FROM SAAS TO ZERMATT. 

Pass discovered by the Cure— The Mattmarksee — Tame Chamois — 
A Night in the Hay — Ascent to the Allelein Glacier — Flowers — 
Magnificent Prospect— Beautiful Crevasses — The Col Imseng — 
Vegetation close to the Summit — The Monte Eosa Chain — 
Intense Cold— Fearful Descent — The Cure on the Eocks — The 
Cure among the Crevassess — Another Eace — Effect of a Hard 
Day's Work . 155—187 



xvi 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE HOCHTHALIGRAT AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OP 
ZERMATT. 

The Biffelberg and its Inn — The Hochthaligrat — Beauty of the 
Flowers — Sublime Prospect — Monte Rosa — The Matterhorn — 
Bernese Chain — The Schwarzsee — Curious Optical Phenomenon 
—Glacier of Zmutt— The Col d'Erin— The Val d'Anniviers— 
Barbarism of the Inhabitants .... 188 — 201 



CHAPTER X. 

PASS OF ST. THEODULE, PROM ZERMATT TO CHATILLON. 

Ascent to the Glacier — A Fantastic Nook — Taking the Wrong 
Track — Dangerous Crevasses — Carelessness of the Zermatt 
Guides — Specks on the Snow — A Sea of Mist — A Dreary Abode 
— An Extraordinary Character — His Tragical Fate — An Icy 
Tomb — Val Tournanche — Short Commons and Dirty Quarters — 
A Long Walk to Breakfast— Chatillon— Remarks . 202—221 

CHAPTER XL 

THE TORRENTHORN, THE (ESCHINEN LAKE, AND THE DISTRICT 
OF THE GHEMMI. 

Ascent of the Torrenthorn — Startling Approach to a Precipice — All 
the Alps at one View — A Novel Paint-Brush — The Ghemmi — 
The Schwarenbach — A " Veritable Voleur" — Glaciers of the 
Wildstrubel— The (Eschinen Lake— Profusion of Wild Fruits- 
Force of the Torrent — A Freezing Bathe — Frutigen — Cordial 
Reception 222—239 



CONTENTS. 



xvii 



CHAPTEE XII. 

EXCURSIONS AND EXPLORATIONS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD 
OP INTERLAKEN. 

Unknown Treasures of Scenery about Interlaken — The Harder — 
Dangerous Grassy Slopes — Melancholy Fate of a Lady — Magnifi- 
cent Precipices — An Uncomfortable Seat — Above the Staubbach 
— The Gumihorn — A Second Jungfrau — Beautiful Woodland 
Path — Deep Snow — Striking Panorama — An Intractable 
Steed 240—253 



CHAPTEE XIII. 

THE PASSAGE OP THE TS CHIN GEL GLACIER PROM 
LAUTERBRUNNEN TO EANDERSTEG. 

The Laueners — Thunderstorm — The Jungfrau by Moonlight — Upper 
Valley of Lauterbrunnen — A Rough Ladder — The Glacier — 
Rash Bees and Butterflies — A Herd of Chamois — Another 
Storm — A Wet Walk — Kandersteg — Frutigen — A Mas- 
querade . 254 — 266 



CHAPTEE XIY. 

ASCENT OP THE WETTERHORN. 

Resolution to ascend the Wetterhorn — ""Sampson" — Lauener — 
Start from Grindelwald — Description of the Wetterhorn — 
Bohren — The Enge— The Flag — Salute from Below — Sunset — 
Night Encampment — Uncomfortable Quarters — Solemn Scene — 
Early Morning — Rock Difficulties — The Upper Plateau — 
Pirates — The Last Rocks— Hazardous Ascent — Overhanging 
Cornice — Startling Arrival at the Summit — Narrow Edge — 
Magnificent Panorama — Seen from Grindelwald — Planting the 
Flag and the Fir-Tree — Failure of Previous Attempts — Awful 



xviii 



CONTENTS. 



Descent — "To the Health of the Wetterhorn" — A Race on the 
Rocks and a Roll on the Ice — Troublesome Flock of Sheep — 
Fen de Joie — Safe Arrival — Black Faces — Excitement at 
Grindelwald— Remarks 267—315 

CHAPTER XY. 

HINTS FOR PEDESTRIANS. 

Switzerland the Country for Pedestrians — Expense — Outfit — 
The Knapsack — Shoes — Socks — Elannel — Contents of the 
Knapsack — Blouse — Ropes — Telescope — Compass — Pressing 
Mowers — Riding and Walking — Guides, when needed — A Guide 
for the Tour — Inns in the High Alps — Extortion in Piedmont — 
Swiss Inns — At Sonceboz — The Schwarenbach — The Engadine — 
Food — Beds — The Chalet-Elea — When and how to resist— 
Temper . * 316—347 

CHAPTER XYI. 

GLACIER ACTION AND GLACIER THEORIES. 

Striking Nature of Glacier Phenomena — Activity of Glaciers — 
Moraines and Glacier Tables — Different Regions of a Glacier — 
Motion of Glaciers — Hugi — Agassiz — Forbes — Crevasses — The 
" Gravitation Theory" of De Saussure — The "Dilatation Theory" 
of Charpentier and Agassiz— Suggestion of Mr. Moseley — 
"Viscous Theory" of Professor Forbes — Mr. Christie's Ex- 
periment — Forbes's Experiments — Geological History of 
Glaciers — Erratic Blocks — Traces of Glacier Action in Wales 
—Former Vast Extension of Glaciers . . 348 — 370 



Appendix 



373—384 



ERRATA. 



Page 108 line 6. for " copy " read " spy." 

— 114 — 7. for "palustries," read " palustris." 

— 127 — 11 from the bottom, for " rosemarinum" read " rosmarinum." 

— 129 — 5 from the bottom, for "fimbriata " read " ciliata." [The two varieties 

are very much alike, but there is some doubt whether "fimbriata " 
is a Swiss variety.] 

— 130 — 9 from the bottom, for " azoides" read "aizoides." 

— 157 — 10 from the bottom, for " azoides" read " aizoides." 

— 224 — last line but one. for " mysotises," read " myosotises." 

— 232 — 9. for "Monte Rosa" read "the Weisshorn. " I have made a very 

common error in mistaking the Weisshorn for Monte Eosa, which 
is nearly twenty miles further, and effectually concealed by the 
range of the Weisshorn. — See Forbes's "Travels through the 
Alps," p. 303. 



WANDERINGS 

AMONG 

THE HIGH ALPS. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE COL DU GEANT. 

There, many a precipice 
Erost and the sun, in scorn of mortal power, 
Have piled : — dome, pyramid and pinnacle, 
A city of death, distinct with many a tower, 
And wall impregnable of beaming ice. 

Shelley. 



REGULATIONS OF THE CHAMOUNI GUIDES — COL DE VOSA — ■ COL 
DE BALME — RECONNOITRING EXCURSION TO THE JARDIN — 
PREPARATIONS — NIGHT AT THE MONTANVERT — BEAUTIFUL 
MOONLIGHT SCENE — START FOR THE COL DU GEANT — SUNRISE 
UPON THE MER DE GLACE — " PIERRE l'eCHELLE " — " THE 
DIFFICULTIES" — "THE DANGERS" — FALL INTO A CREVASSE- 
ARRIVAL AT THE COL — DIFFICULT DESCENT — GUIDES — EXPENSE. 

I left London on the 15th of August, 1853, and 
arrived, on the afternoon of the 19th at Sallenches, where 
my good friend Auguste Balmat met me, and greeted me 
with a hearty shake of the hand as I descended from the 

B 



2 



REGULATIONS OF THE GUIDES. 



diligence. The guides of Chamouni are a kind of corpo- 
ration, governed by their own bye-laws, which are capable 
of being enforced by legal process ; and one of their absurd 
regulations* was, that any person at Chamouni who wanted 
a guide, must take the one who was next on the rota. It 
was in vain that you expostulated — you ha^anl old friend 
on the list — you did not like the look of the guide thus 
fortuitously presented — another man had been recommended 
to you — this had nothing to do with the matter ; superior 
skill, energy and competency brought no advantage to the 
good guide; impertinence and incapacity were no dis- 
qualification to the bad guide. You must take the man 
whose turn it was; and you must take him at the 
regulation price, whether you liked him or not. It was 
all en regie. There was but one loop-hole ; and only old 
travellers were acquainted with that. If you engaged your 
guide out of the jurisdiction of the commune, and if you 
reached Chamouni with him, by way of a Col, the regula- 
tions were suspended, and you could keep him, though out 
of turn. If you arrived by the carriage road, he could not 
accompany you the next day. Accordingly, I had written to 
Balmat to meet me at Sallenches, and to enter the Cha- 
mouni jurisdiction by way of the Col de Yosa. We had 
a beautiful walk up this charming little pass, which is not 
half so often taken as it deserves to be. Most persons 
content themselves with ascending to the Pavilion from 
Chamouni, and returning the same way; whereas, the 
other side of the pass, between St. Gervais and the 
summit, is much the most beautiful. The first part of 

* There is some chance of these rules undergoing revision this 
year ; — not before revision is needed. 



COL DE VOSA. 



3 



the path leads through verdant meadows and fruitful 
orchards,, after whi|h it turns to the left, and winds steeply 
round the shoulder of the mountain, amongst luxuriant 
nut, beech, and chesnut trees, which overhang the track. 
The roaring torrent of the glacier of Bionnassay is soon 
left far below. On the opposite side is the beautiful path 
to Contamines; and, if you turn round, the eye lights 
upon the lovely and peaceful scene presented by the rich 
pasturages of Mont Joly. Emerging from the trees, you 
come to soft and marshy slopes above the woods, traversed 
by a thousand rills of transparent, gushing water, while in 
front are the imposing masses of the great glacier of 
Bionnassay, surmounted by the still vaster snows of the 
Dome du Goute, and of the Aiguille of the same name, 
with its shaggy precipices and enormous crags. Towards 
sunset, we reached the soft turf at the top of the Col, and 
had a glorious view of the valley of Chamouni, and the 
glaciers and aiguilles of Mont Blanc, and watched the 
roseate tints on the snowy summits gradually fade into the 
cold gray of night. We put up at the little hostelry 
of the Pavilion, where we slept comfortably, and next 
morning, rising before the sun, descended over the pleasant 
turf and flowery pastures, all wet with the heavy dews of 
the morning, and reached Chamouni before most of the 
world were astir. 

After breakfast, I ascended the Col de Balme, to keep 
an appointment with my brother, who was to come from 
Martigny to meet me at the top. It was a strangely 
different scene from the last view I had had over the valley 
of Chamouni, the year before, when the floods were out ; 
but the traces of the inundation were still apparent to 

b 2 



4 



COL DE BALME. 



those who knew where to look for them, and in what to 
recognize them. The once well-metalled road which led 
to Argentiere was a mere dusty track, worn by constant- 
traffic, amongst the stones of all shapes and sizes which 
had been scattered broad-cast over the plain. The dust 
was now over our shoe-tops, where, the last year, the water 
would have reached to our middles. Not a breath of air 
was stirring, and the heat was intense. We found some 
huge leaves of coltsfoot, which we dipped in the glacier 
stream, and lined our caps with them, and let them hang 
down over our ears and the backs of our heads, so as to 
form some protection against the fierce glare of the sun. 
Soon afterwards, we crossed the gigantic moraine which 
shows where once the Mer de Glace descended right across 
the plain ; a fact which tradition confirms, by saying that 
formerly a great lake existed behind it, like the Matt- 
marksee, in the valley of Saas. Among the firs and 
larches with which this ancient landmark is clothed, you 
see well the great blocks of primitive granite, of which the 
moraine is mainly composed. Then the valley opens, and 
beautiful green slopes on the right make the spot very 
dangerous in winter and spring, on account of the ava- 
lanches. Presently, we came within the influence of the 
glaciers of Argentiere and Le Tour, and a cool breeze 
tempered the intense and almost overpowering heat. I 
recognized the spot where, the year before, we had helped 
the peasants in their efforts to save a portion of their landfrom 
the ravages of the flood. How different was now the scene ! 
It was hard to believe that we gazed on the stream which 
we had seen, but a year ago, exerting such a terrible and 
destructive agency. 



RECONNOITRING. 



We readied the top about two o' clock, and, in half an 
hour were gladdened by the sight of my brother and his 
party, who had kept their tryst faithfully. They had, 
however, started too late from Martigny, and had paid 
dearly for the delay. The heat on the Eorclaz had been 
something awful, and every one of the party was more or 
less exhausted by it. On the way down, just before we 
reached the ancient moraine of the Mer de Glace, Balmat 
pointed out to us a spot where an avalanche had descended, 
the wind of which had carried a man from a place high 
above the stream at the bottom of the ravine, to a point 
nearly the same height on the opposite side. He 
also showed us a gigantic block of granite, which 
had been transported from one side of the valley to 
the other by the blow of an avalanche. These specific 
instances give a better idea of the enormous force 
with which the snow rushes down, than any general 
description could do. 

The next day, we visited the Jardin, partly with a view 
to explore with the telescope the passage leading to the Col 
du Geant, which we were intending to cross. It was a 
glorious day, and we made a most successful expedition. 
While we lay basking in the sun, on the rocks of the 
Jardin, Balmat took the telescope, and after examining 
long and anxiously the formidable chaos of crevasses that 
lay before us on the ascent to the " grand Col," pronounced 
it to be " passablement mauvais a present but he added, 
with a quiet smile of confidence, that we should no doubt 
find some sort of passage. We had started before six; 
and it was half-past nine at night before we reached 
Chamouni again ; so we thought it well to make the 



6 



VEXATIOUS REGULATIONS. 



next a quiet day, in order to prepare for the great ex- 
pedition. My brother went earl}- to the Mer de Glace 
with the rest of his party ; and I stayed below, till the 
afternoon, to complete our preparations, and joined him 
in the evening at the Montanvert. One of the reglements of 
the corporation of guides was, that no party of travellers 
should be permitted to cross the Col du Geant with less than 
two guides a-piece, under pain of a heavy fine on any guide 
who should contravene the regulation. We had plotted with 
Balmat, who had a perfect horror of these absurd and 
mischievous rules, to make the passage with but two 
guides, and had concocted a scheme by which we thought 
we should be able to evade the law ; but it is very difficult 
in a place like Chain ouni to keep these matters " dark." 
Many things are necessary for the expedition, which cannot 
be got together without exciting attention ; and the chief 
guide, getting scent of our plan, sent for Balmat, and 
expressed his determination to have the rule carried out. 
"We were obliged to yield, which we did with a bad 
grace, and to incur the great expense of four guides. An 
old friend of mine, Zachary Cachat, had met me at Sallenches, 
in order that we might be able to secure his services, if 
we desired them, without the interference of the trouble- 
some reglements ; and Balmat managed, despite them, to 
secure us two other excellent guides, by being on the watch, 
and claiming them the moment their turn arrived. One 
of them, Pierre Cachat, the uncle of Zachary, was entrusted 
with the preparation of a strong ladder, to help us over the 
crevasses. Zachary provided a stout ice-hatchet, fitted on 
to a short alpenstock, and Balmat saw to the requisite 
stock of cords, and of such little comforts as chocolate, 



NIGHT AT THE MONTANVERT. 



1 



raisins, a flask of cognac and the like, which we were not 
likely to get so good at the Montanvert. Chocolate and 
raisins, it should be remarked, are admirable preventives of 
thirst and exhaustion ; in a very long day's march, it is 
a great comfort to have them to suck from time to time. 
All Alpine mountaineers are familiar with this use of them. 
I had lost my cap in the dark, as we descended the night 
before from the Montanvert, and invested in a broad- 
brimmed straw hat, which is a great protection to the face 
and neck. When we started in the afternoon, with our 
ladder, ropes, and hatchet, there was quite a stir at Cha- 
mouni ; and we encountered so many questioners on the 
way to the Montanvert, that it was nearly three hours 
before we reached it. We met my brother's party re- 
turning from the Mer de Glace, and parted from them, 
hoping to meet in a few days at "Visp or at Zermatt. Our 
men were all in the highest spirits, and as wild as so many 
schoolboys. An excursion of this kind is profitable to 
them ; and, independently of the gain, I believe they enjoy 
it as much as their employers. 

We went to bed early, in the hope of a good night's 
rest before the morrow. My brother slept well ; but, for 
some reason or other, I never got to sleep at all. I heard 
every sound, all the night long, out of the house and in 
the house, from the rattling of the angry wind which blew 
almost a gale against my casement, to the jabbering and 
chattering of the women who were cooking our fowls for 
the morrow, and the champing of a mule's chain, and the 
clanking of his shoes in the stable underneath. Such an 
incessant noise all night, I have seldom heard — heavy feet 
tramping to and fro, here, there, and everywhere, on the 



8 



MER DE GLACE BY MOONLIGHT. 



bare wooden floors ; shrill voices pitched high, and nearly 
always at it, guides lying on the hay in the stable, 
laughing and joking for hours after we went to bed, and 
every kind of disturbance. The moon poured in a flood 
of silver light at my window. I thought it was the light 
that kept me awake, and rose and fastened the shutters 
outside, excluding all but a stray beam or two, which 
found a way through the chinks ; but in vain. I dozed 
once or twice, but never fairly slept. However, I lay 
very quiet ; and when, at one o'clock, Balmat summoned 
me to get up, I was not so little rested as I feared I 
should be. 

It was as beautiful a night as ever gave place to a 
glorious day. The moon, three days past the full, was 
shining with cloudless lustre upon the peaks of the Char- 
moz, the glaciers and crags of the Nant Blanc, the Aiguille 
du Drupand the Aiguille Yerte, upon the solemn masses 
of the Jorasses, and upon the wavy sea of ice beneath our 
feet, upon whose surface the long lines of moraine were 
distinctly seen, one behind another. The wind was very 
high ; at times, indeed, it blew quite a gale ; and when we 
started, we were obliged to tie our handkerchiefs over our 
hats to keep them on. The stars shone with uncommon 
brilliancy, and seemed (if I may borrow a phrase, I think, 
of de Saussure's) to hang out of a sky of ebony. The night 
was remarkably warm. In spite of the high wind which 
was sweeping down the glacier, the thermometer, at two 
o'clock, stood at 58°, by two observations; a temperature 
which Balmat said was without a precedent in his expe- 
rience. 

It was exactly half past two when, after a hearty break- 



THE START. 



9 



fast, we got fairly under weigh. Zachary Cachat led off, 
followed by Balmat, my brother and myself, and the two 
other guides. Pierre Cachat went last, carrying our ladder, 
which must have weighed nearly half a hundred weight, 
as well as a knapsack containing some of the ropes and 
provisions. They were all in wild spirits, delighted at the 
prospect of a glorious day, and a difficult expedition ; and 
made the surrounding rocks ring again with their shouts 
and laughter. As we filed down the narrow track that 
leads to the glacier, the rocks about us poured forth one 
continuous stream of heat. We might have passed the 
night in the open air, lying near the rocks, and been too 
hot, rather than too cold. In many places, the puffs 
of wind, instead of being, as we should have expected, 
ice-cold from the glacier, burst upon us with the heat and 
oppression of a sirocco. Had this lasted any considerable 
time, we should have been exhausted before our day's 
work was fairly begun ; but, instead of pursuing the track 
which the guides are fond of taking, continuing by the 
rocks, and along the moraine beneath the Glacier of 
Charmoz, which overhangs the Mer de Glace on the right 
— a track which, though easier, is never safe — we took to 
the ice before we reached the Angle. Even here, the hot 
wind pursued us, and often saluted us with stifling and 
sudden gusts. The ice gave us a good deal of difficulty, 
from its extreme slipperiness, the consequence of the heat, 
which melted off all the superfluous snow and softer ice, 
and left us only the compacter and harder ice to walk 
upon. The guides, one and all, declared they never had 
so slippery a walk over the Mer de Glace, and gave 
utterance to many expressions of unfeigned astonishment, 

b 3 



10 



SUNRISE. 



both as to the heat, and the difficulty of keeping on our 
feet. Beyond the Angle, we kept as near to the over- 
hanging glacier on the right as we dared; but just as 
we were approaching the side, a great shower of boulders 
and smaller stones came crashing down, some of which 
leaped and bounded nearly as far as where we stood ; as 
if to warn us that, even at that early hour, it was not 
safe to venture near the edge, or to trust to the compara- 
tive break in the energy of glacier action during the 
night. 

Having passed the spots threatened by these lateral 
glaciers, we took to the rocks again, at the promontory of 
the Trelaporte, which projects some distance into the Mer 
de Glace, by crossing the neck of which we gained a good 
half hour. Here, about four o'clock, we perceived the 
first faint grey hues of early dawn, showing themselves in 
the direction of the Col de Balme, where the mountains 
were lower than they were in the direction of the actual 
daybreak. The changes in the sky, however, were very 
gradual; and very gently did "the morning steal upon 
the night ; s> it was long before the snowy summits to the 
right of the Col du Geant began to wear the cold, dead 
white livery of morning. None of us, I think, will ever 
forget the scene we beheld, as we were making our diffi- 
cult way across the slippery ridges of densely compacted 
ice, which lie between the rocks of Trelaporte and those 
of the Tacul — the gradually paling moon — the stars disap- 
pearing one by oue, till Jupiter and Sirius alone were 
visible — the dark azure (if one might not say the black) 
of the sky, waking slowly into the coldest and most 
delicate blue, tinted, in the quarter of the rising sun, with 



PIERRE L'ECHELLE. 



11 



faint blushes of purple, orange, and violet. At length, 
just at five o' clock, and when we had reached nearly to 
the foot of the Tacul, and must turn to the right, to face 
the difficulties of the day, we saw the first bright rays of 
the rising sun on the summit of Mont Blanc, and the 
Aiguilles du Midi and du Geant ; the shadows from the 
Grandes Jorasses being thrown upwards, on to the higher 
aiguilles and summits, down whose precipices and snows 
they rapidly descended, till they hung long upon the parts 
which seemed not far above us. At this time, though we 
were surrounded by ice on every side, the thermometer 
stood at 51°. 

Zachary Cachat's uncle was still carrying the ladder, to 
which he clung with all the desperate pertinacity of an 
early attachment ; no persuasion would induce him to part 
with it. We joked him a good deal about his partiality ; 
and one of us said : — " If his name was only Peter, we 
would call him { Pierre FEchelle/ " This produced a 
shout of laughter from the guides, as his name turned out 
to be actually Peter — and to this day he goes by the name 
of Pierre PEchelle. It was not till late in the day that we 
discovered the secret of Pierre's fondness for the ladder. 
The guides had come to the conclusion, the night before, 
that the least troublesome way of carrying a part, at least, of 
the provisions, would be to find inside accommodation for 
them, and had accordingly laid in a huge supper of chops 
and potatoes. Pierre being wholly unaccustomed to a 
heavy supper, it sat heavy upon his soul ; and he thought 
that it would be pleasanter for him to carry the ladder, 
because he could then, with a good conscience, go last, and 
take his own pace. No one could have found out that he 



12 



GLACIER DU GEANT. 



was unwell, for a more good-humoured, cheerful, willing 
fellow the sun never shone upon ; and he performed the 
ladder part of the business to admiration. The fourth man, 
Matthieu Simond, was also an excellent fellow, andit was hard 
to say which of them was the best for temper and attention. 
They all paid great deference to Balmat in any matter of 
difficulty. Simond told me he was a " veritable diable" on 
the ice; indeed, his scientific knowledge of the glaciers 
gave him a marked superiority over any other guide I ever 
saw. 

We now turned towards the difficulties of the pass, and 
drew gradually near to a scene which it is impossible 
adequately to describe. The walls which bound the glacier 
are enormous crags and aiguilles, with small secondary 
glaciers hanging down from their every slope ; and as you 
advance, they retire, and form a vast amphitheatre of 
snowy peaks and gigantic precipices. Some of the heights 
are rounded, but most are rugged to the very top, with 
snow resting upon every ledge in their precipitous sides ; 
and they present every wild and fantastic variety of shape 
and structure. As you approach the difficult part of the 
glacier, you see that it pours down in a vast stream of ice 
over a ridge in its rocky bed ; and that it is at the same 
time much contracted, and forced through a narrow channel, 
with a bend from the left in its course. Those who know 
anything of the nature and structure of glaciers need not 
to be told that, under these conditions, the ice is rifted, and 
torn and twisted into the most fearful, and apparently 
impassable chaos of crevasses, blocks, and precipices of ice. 
Yet amidst all this seeming confusion, order reigns, and a 
careful survey which is not distracted from broad charac- 



GLACIER DU GEANT. 



13 



teristics by a minute attention to local and casual pecu- 
liarities, will show that there is a point, where the glacier 
stream is borne against the rocky wall on the right, which 
confines it at its turn* from which the great crevasses all 
radiate with more or less regularity. The only possibility 
of effecting a passage, is to note carefully this general law 
in the direction of the crevasses, and to follow them up 
towards this central point. However much you may be 
diverted, from time to time, by the necessity of seeking here 
and there for a passage, by which to cross this chasm or to 
turn that crevasse, you must always bear in mind that, only 
near the point from which the crevasses radiate can you 
hope to succeed in passing them all. Where the natural 
features of the glacier channel cause this radiation, the 
crevasses, as a general rule, widen in one direction, and 
by following them steadily up from their wider to their 
narrower ends, you will generally come to a place where 
they can be crossed either by a bridge of snow or ice 
already existing, or by the ladder. It must not be supposed, 
however, that one side of a crevasse is always on a level 
with the other. Sometimes it is five, sometimes ten, some- 
times twenty feet, higher or lower. Sometimes a great 
mass of ice will rise towering above the rest, surrounded 
by a moat of crevasses, running in every direction round 
its base. Sometimes a thin slice will be left far above the 
rest, curiously overhanging, and all but ready to fall; 
waiting, in fact, only for the melting of its fast-narrowing 
base. All such obstacles may have, in their turn, to be 
scaled, crossed, or turned ; and thus arises every variety of 



Near the Petit Kognon. 



14 



GLACIER DU GEANT. 



difficulty. The only way in which a wide crevasse can be 
crossed, may be by descending many feet into its bosom, 
to where a bridge of snow or fallen mass of ice affords a 
resting place, from which the ladder may be planted against 
the opposite side ; or steps may have to be cut in the ice, 
or ropes to be used, for fear any one should slip. The 
mass which we were approaching poured down a steep 
declivity, so that our course was always upwards ; and 
owing to this fall in the bed of the glacier, the crevasses were 
not generally vertical, but were commonly with an incli- 
nation outwards from the bottom. " Crevasse" sounds 
like a small matter; but some are two or three hundred 
feet deep, few under forty or fifty, and in width they vary 
from half an inch to three or four hundred feet. Scores of 
them are from ten to twenty feet across ; many, half filled 
with ice-cold, dark blue water, as clear as crystal. In all, 
where you can see far enough down into their depths, the 
walls consist of ice, of the purest, and intensest blue, 
crossed vertically by small bands of dark green, granulated, 
and less transparent ice, and surmounted by beds of snow, 
deposited year after year, and not yet compacted, by the 
freezing of the percolated water from the surface, into solid 
ice. In oue crevasse, I counted eleven beds of snow 
belonging to different years, thus resting one upon the 
other, the highest bed being hardly different from ordinary 
snow, the lowest fading into actual ice, and the intermediate 
beds representing every stage in the transition from one 
form of frozen water to the other. 

Every fantastic shape that the mind can conceive is 
presented by the great blocks of ice, which come tumbling 
over in the glacier torrent, and which are pressed forward 



GLACIER DU GEANT. 



15 



with a motion, less rapid indeed, but as certain as that of 
the foaming torrent of the Arve, miles away, towards which 
they are borne in their silent and ceaseless flow, and as part 
of whose waters they will ultimately feed the great ocean, 
hundreds of miles distant, with a certainty as absolute, and 
in obedience to a law as definite and unerring, as that 
under which the sun rises at his appointed time, or the 
most obvious and familiar phenomenon of nature takes 
place. Prom side to side, the masses of ice stretch for a 
distance of a couple of miles ; they are bounded by enor- 
mous walls of rock, ice and snow, turretted with equally 
wonderful peaks, cliffs and pinnacles, and beyond them lie 
unmeasured fields and mountains of ice, covered by a 
mantle of deep snow, concealing all but the most gigantic 
crevasses, and affording a dangerous means of traversing 
the glacier. 

Just as we turned to face this difficult passage, we 
heard the shrill whistle of a marmot, on the side of the 
Tacul. All eyes were strained to catch a sight of him, for 
any living thing seemed strangely out of place in that 
bare and desolate region. I pulled out my glass and 
saw him scampering up the mountain, till he gained a 
hole, where he hid his cowering head. We gazed long 
and intently on the slopes of herbage beneath the Aiguille 
Noire, as the place is a well known chamois ground ; 
but we could not see any. Near here, we saw several 
of the beautiful ' ' flowers of the glacier," as the spots are 
called, where a hole in the surface induces all the meltings 
of the neighbouring ice to drain towards it, thus making 
a series of little radiating channels, which are not unlike 
the petals of a flower. 



16 



BREAKFAST ON THE ICE. 



The ice gradually became more rough and uneven, 
and the inequalities were on a larger scale ; the detours to 
avoid formidable crevasses were becoming more frequent ; 
beds of snow here and there filled up considerable chasms, 
when, about a quarter to seven, Balmat thought it prudent 
that we should get in harness ; the ropes were accordingly 
brought out, and we tied ourselves together, and resumed 
our march in one regular line. In about half an hour 
more, the ladder was coming frequently into play, and 
we had just met the descending shadow line, and crossed 
it, so that the sun shone bright upon us, (a welcome 
visitor, as it was very cold, while we were advancing 
towards the huge accumulation of ice, and were far away 
from the rocks on either side) when we thought it well to 
stay and breakfast. It was a wild spot ; we rested on a 
bank of ice, surrounded by enormous crevasses filled with 
water as clear, and almost as blue, as the sky above our 
heads, and spanned here and there by a frail arch of snow, 
which was rapidly disappearing beneath the warm sun- 
shine. There was just room for our party to sit or stand 
about, without getting too near the edge of a crevasse, 
knapsacks, ropes, alpenstocks, the ice-hatchet and the 
ladder, lay about wherever they would rest, while cold 
chicken, mutton, cheese, bread and wine, were unpacked 
in tempting array before our eager eyes. Below us, lay 
the fields of ice, across which we had already made our 
way, and above, sparkling in the radiance of the morning 
sun, and dripping at every point, were the tremendous 
cliffs and chaotic masses of torn and jagged ice, through 
whose network of gulfs and precipices, of overhanging 
blocks and fathomless fissures, we had yet to make our 



THE DIFFICULTIES. 



17 



way. About half a mile off, the ascent seemed crowned 
by an unattainable wall of ice, broken and rifted itself, 
but everywhere precipitous and forbidding, and guarded 
by the longest, widest, and deepest set of crevasses in the 
whole glacier. It was, in fact, assailable only on the 
extreme right, where the approach was so formidable, 
the direction of the crevasses so irregular, the bridges so 
few, so narrow, so inclined and so difficult of access, that 
it seemed all but hopeless to think of attacking such a 
fortress in that quarter ; however, we were in good hands, 
and had no doubt of success, and we made our halting 
place a cheerful spot in the midst of the desert of ice. 

By eight o'clock, we were again in motion ; the difficul- 
ties being, as Balmat said, about to begin — and being 
" passablement mauvaises." Our method of progression 
was, perhaps, more safe than dignified, and afforded a good 
deal of amusement. Zachary C achat preceded my brother, 
holding in his hand a cord, to the end of which my brother 
was tied — very much as a dancing bear is led. Then came 
Simond, leading me in the same fashion. As for Balmat, 
he had the "direction" of the expedition, and it was necessary 
for him to go forward, by himself, to explore the way. If 
there was any impossible-looking pinnacle of ice, which 
commanded a better view than another of the surrounding 
labyrinth of crevasses, Balmat was sure to be seen peering 
about from the top, which he had gained in some incom- 
prehensible way, examining anxiously, but coolly, for the 
passage. It was one of his exploits in this way that called 
forth Simond's admiring exclamation, that he was a " veri- 
table diable pour la glace.'" It was a scene of great anima- 
tion and excitement, and the eager shouts of the men in their 



18 



FAREWELL TO THE LADDER. 



Sardinian patois, as they rapidly asked or answered questions 
about the route, or gave and acknowledged the necessary 
directions, harmonized well with the wildness of the pros- 
pect. " Aouste, Aouste, passe-t-on kVhaut V 3 would be 
asked by one, and answered by a rapid " non, non, la-bas 
.and then a wave of the hand, and "Zachary ! lash (I am 
spelling phonetically), lash passar monche," (let Monsieur 
pass on). " Ou passar?" "A droit, a droit — voilay" and 
then a loud " Pierra, Pierra., devanca la fila/' (Pierre, 
Pierre, forward with the ladder), as Pierre TEchelle, who 
still brought up the rear, was ordered to the front, to 
help us across some formidable crevasse. Some idea 
of the intricacy of the passage may be formed from the 
fact, than in the course of three hours, we made less 
than half a mile of direct progress; but such was the 
beauty of the scene and the excitement of the enter- 
prise, that it seemed scarcely half an hour, and we were 
quite sorry when we reached a sort of valley in the ice, 
where the last party who had made the passage had left 
their ladder, and where we also were to leave ours. It was 
now eleven, and we sat down again, and made a short but 
grateful repast. It w r as an awful sight to look back on 
the maze of crevasses we had left behind ; and we could 
not help wondering at the skill which had brought us 
through them all in perfect safety. After our lunch, bid- 
ding at length farewell to Pierre rEchehVs "premier 
amour," as we named it, we got in harness once more, 
and were all tied together in one long row ; for now, 
according to Palmate distinction, the difficulties were over, 
and the dangers about to begin. The dangers in question 
were those of concealed crevasses, for, from this point, the 



FALL INTO A CREVASSE. 



19 



ice was all covered with a thick coating of snow. For two 
hours we made our way across the vast fields and moun- 
tains of snow, often obliged to zig-zag on account of the 
steepness of the ascent, and to make long detours, to 
avoid crevasses which the leading guide discovered by 
striking his stick into the snow, as he went along. Fortu- 
nately, the snow was in a good state, and as the sun does 
not fairly beat down onto these slopes till the afternoon, 
they were tolerably firm, and though we found our gaiters 
comfortable, we were seldom six inches, and often not 
more than two, deep in the snow. Early in the ascent, I had 
a practical proof of the advisability of being tied, for I fell 
into a hole over which those before me had passed in safety. 
It was only up to my thighs, and I thought the guides 
would have almost broken my legs with their energy in 
pulling me out. Nearer the top, we encountered a broad 
and deep crevasse stretching across the glacier for a mile or 
more in each direction. It would have been a serious 
addition to our labour to have had to turn it, and fortu- 
tunately in one place, not far from us, it was spanned by a 
frail bridge of snow. Balmat passed safely over it, but it 
was very rotten, and each succeeding person made it worse. 
I was fifth in the line of march, and the instant that I 
stepped upon it, it gave way, and I fell into the crevasse. 
The moment I felt myself going, I shouted to the men 
before me ; every one planted himself firmly in the snow, 
and as we always kept about ten feet from one another, I did 
not go far. I felt the cord tighten round my shoulders, 
and knew that I was safe. I was up to my neck in the 
crevasse, and felt my legs dangling in the blue depth 
below. I had just time, while in this position, to cast one 



20 



VIEW FROM THE COL. 



look into the yawning chasm beneath me, and I shall never 
forget the sight. The crevasse appeared to stretch away to 
an interminable length on either hand, varying in width 
from fonr or five feet to twenty or thirty, or more. It 
appeared to be three or four hundred feet in depth, and 
was, throughout, of the deepest and most transparent blue. 
In places, the crest of snow at the surface, projected, like 
broad eaves, over the edge of the crevasse, and great icicles 
hanging from the under side presented a strange scene of 
fantastic magnificence. I was not left long to contemplate 
the wonders of a crevasse, for I was instantly hauled out 
like a bale of goods, and deposited safely on the opposite 
bank, none the worse for my fall. Pierre FEchelle, who 
was following me, had to take a leap with his alpenstock, 
and was helped across by a pull at his rope from the 
others. 

Soon afterwards, we were assured, by that indescribable 
appearance and feeling in the air which tells you surely 
when you are cresting a swelling ridge, that the top of the' 
Col was at hand, and in two or three minutes the whole 
chain of the Piedmontese Alps, from Mount Combin on 
the left, to Mount Cenis in the extreme right, far away in 
the distance, began to appear above the horizon. The 
effect was magical, as they rose slowly into view. 
Pirst came snowy tops ; then glacier stretches and slopes ; 
then crag and precipice ; then the nearer green of the 
Cramont, the Chetif, and the Col de Perret ; and, at length, 
the end of the Allee Blanche and the glaciers of Miage 
and Brenva, and the head of the rich valley of Aosta, at 
our very feet, lay before us in one exquisite picture. It 
seemed as if one could throw a stone from where we stood 



DE SAUSSURE. 



21 



on to the church of Courmayeur. The sky was not cloud- 
less on this side, as it had been on the other, but there was 
nothing to take away materially from the extent or clear- 
ness of the view. To our right, was Mont Blanc himself, 
to all appearance not very far above us, and the formid- 
able crags and precipices which guard his southern frontier. 
The difference between the configuration of the northern 
and that of the southern side of the range is very curious. 
Seen from Chamouni, Mont Blanc appears all white ; from 
the Col du Geant, the southern side appears all black ; 
and I know hardly anything among the Alps finer than the 
stupendous buttresses of dark crag which rise from the 
valley below almost to the very summit of the mountain 
monarch. Behind us lay the snowy basin and the noble 
peaks among which we had been for so many hours, and 
to our left rose high above the pass its guardian tower, 
the great Aiguille du Geant. In front, the descent was 
so steep that, though we could see the green slopes below, 
we could not see how to reach them. It looked as if 
a pebble might have been dropped down thousands of 
feet. 

Some rocks jutted out of the snow on the right of the 
Col, and here we came to our third halt, at half-past one — 
having occupied eleven hours in the ascent from the Mon- 
tanvert. We could recognize, from his description, the 
spot where the intrepid de Saussure had built his little 
cabin, when, for the purposes of science, he spent seven- 
teen days on this barren Col, though no traces of the 
structure remain. A few fragments of straw, preserved by 
the frost, are the sole material relics of his adventurous 
sojourn. We had no difficulty in fixing upon the rock he 



22 



THE COL. 



mentions as lying about half -way between his cabin and 
the station where his instruments were placed, and against 
which, in storms of wind, they were glad to save them- 
selves from being blown over the precipices on the south 
side. From this point, the view was yet more extensive 
than that which we first saw; for the many peaks of Monte 
Rosa were now in sight, as well as the sharp and lofty 
pinnacle of the Matterhorn. "We found many crystals on 
the Col; amongst them, some of considerable size and beauty. 
The rock is a protogenic granite, intersected with veins of 
quartz. These elevated summits are exposed to great ex- 
tremes of heat and cold, and as the quartz and the granite 
expand and contract unequally, the rock is very much dis- 
integrated, so that it is comparatively easy to get at the 
threads of quartz in which the crystals lie. 

The air was pleasantly warm, and there was little wind, 
so that we found our resting-place a very agreeable one, 
and we remained here for an hour, enjoying the sublime 
prospect before us, and refreshing the inner man with 
more substantial food. We had earned our dinner, and 
extensive as I had been inclined to consider Balmat's pre- 
parations, they proved not at all more than adequate 
to the occasion. Prom our first refection, I had been 
wholly unable to discover the influence of the last night's 
supper on the appetite of the guides, and certainly, 
if it had ever had any existence, it had vanished long 
before this time. Even Pierre's indigestion produced no 
appreciable result. The most substantial viands disap- 
peared with a marvellous rapidity, and the knapsacks were 
as light again when we resumed our march. We had 
brought up a bottle of effervescing lemonade, but it was 



DIFFICULT DESCENT. 



23 



not easy to drink it, as at this great height the gas flew 
out with wonderful energy, the moment the cork was 
drawn, and scattered a considerable part of the contents of 
the bottle before it could be brought to the lips. 

While reclining on the rocks after dinner, basking in 
the sunshine, I pulled off my hat, the better to enjoy the 
gentle breeze, and laid it down beside me. I was sur- 
prised to receive a very emphatic warning from Balmat to 
put it on again. He told me that at these great heights 
the sun has an effect far beyond its power in a denser 
atmosphere, and that to remain uncovered in the sunshine, 
even for a few minutes, is full of danger. I could scarcely 
believe it at first, but he told me it was a well-known fact 
to mountaineers, and that he had known several instances 
in which a very serious sun-stroke had been the consequence 
of neglecting the precaution of keeping the hat on, in very 
elevated spots, and while exposed to the mid-day sun. 

At half-past two, we left the summit of the Col, and 
casting one last look at the splendid amphitheatre behind 
us, began to descend an extremely steep arete, composed 
entirely, on the surface, of loose rolling stones, which 
afforded the worst of footing. Anything so steep and bad 
I had never yet descended. Eor some distance, it was 
down the very edge of the arete, with a precipice on the 
right, overhanging a glacier covered with loose dry snow, 
in which every stone that we sent over created an ava- 
lanche. We adopted something like the bear fashion again. 
Each was preceded by a guide, and held up by another, 
who followed, holding a rope by which one of us was tied. 
After some time, we got on to a slope of snow to the left, 
which was extremely steep, and to all appearance ended in 



24 



FLOWERS. 



a precipice. Balmat and my brother took a glissade from 
top to bottom, and arrived in a very few minutes at the 
foot of the glacier, some fifteen hundred feet below. 
Pierre TEchelle and Simond, to whose charge I was more 
particularly entrusted, preferred a painful and laborious 
descent over loose rocks, rolling stones, and moraine, 
where it is no idle exaggeration to say that a single bad 
slip would probably have cost both myself and my guides 
our lives. It is impossible to hurry down such a place as 
this, and the descent to where the others were waiting for 
us occupied nearly an hour. 

By a quarter past four, we were all together on a little 
green knoll, at the end of the worse part of the descent. 
We were none of us sorry to indulge in a quarter of an 
hour's rest ; and the view of vegetation was an agreeable 
change, after so many hours of sterility and desolation. 
The only flowers I had seen since we left the Montanvert, 
were a ranunculus glacialis, and a dryas octopetala, which 
I gathered on the steep moraine, not far from the summit of 
the Col. At five o'clock, we reached a spring, the first we 
had met with to-day, at which we sat down and finished 
our wine. Yegetation was still scanty; but beautiful 
patches of myosotis alpestris produced a bright and 
cheerful effect, and the delicate ladies 5 mantle {alchemilla 
vulgaris) grew freely near the water. For some time longer, 
the descent was very fatiguing and uncomfortable. The 
mountain was extremely steep, and very bare and rugged, 
with here and there great slabs of smooth rock, taking the 
place of the thin coating of mould and loose stones to 
which we owed the possibility of descending at all ; and 
some care was necessary to avoid these slippery slabs, down 



ARRIVAL AT COURMAYEUR. 



25 



which we must have slid with a fatal velocity had we once 
got upon them. 

After a long scramble, the green slopes I had noticed 
from above were reached ; but they proved to be themselves 
very steep and tiring. However, we raced down them as 
hard as we could go, and arrived about seven o'clock in the 
valley below. A great change had taken place since we 
left the summit of the pass. In the attention necessary 
for the descent, we had not noticed the gathering clouds ; 
but now not a bit of blue sky was to be seen ; heavy thunder- 
clouds hung over Mont Blanc and the Allee Blanche ; and 
the heat of the valley was almost unbearable. At the 
sulphur baths, near Courmayeur, we turned aside, and, guides 
and all, enjoyed the refreshing luxury of a warm bath. Zachary 
Cachat stood much in need of it, for he was quite tired down, 
and his eyes were suffering a good deal. Mine were 
scarcely touched, though we had been obliged to forego 
the use of veils in the most difficult parts. My forehead, 
curiously enough, was most burnt. The brim of the white 
straw hat had reflected back again the glare and heat 
reflected by the glacier, and concentrated a portion of them 
on my forehead, which was very sore and painful for some 
days afterwards. I was obliged to provide against the 
recurrence of this effect, by lining the brim half way round 
with a piece of green calico, which I procured with some 
difficulty at Martigny. 

It was eight o'clock when we reached Courmayeur, after 
a day of nearly eighteen hours ; but the expedition had 
been so completely successful, and we were so well pleased 
at the result, that we did not feel any extraordinary fatigue : 
and the warm bath had removed much of that heat and 

c 



26 



THE " GRAND COL." 



dryness of the skin which such a day is apt to produce, 
and relieved the swollen and uncomfortable feeling of the 
face, which a very long and rapid descent almost always 
causes. We found that another party was to start, 
about two in the morning, to cross the Col from Cour- 
mayeur to Chamouni. We feared they would have 
bad weather ; but, though there was thunder and lightning 
amongst the high peaks during the night, the morning was 
fine, and we heard afterwards that they had a successful 
expedition, much assisted, as we expected they would be, 
by our track, and by the ladder we had left in the hollow, 
and which they made use of, in descending through the 
" difficulties." 

The passage of the Col du Geant is one of the finest 
expeditions I have ever taken : I thought the passage of 
the Eindelen glacier, which I made a week later, and the 
ascent of the Wetterhorn, which I made the following 
year, finer ; but they are the only expeditions I know, 
which will bear comparison with the ee Grand Col," as the 
guides of Chamouni are fond of calling it, par excel- 
lence, For one particular kind of glacier scenery, it is 
unrivalled : not even in the ascent of Mont Blanc, nor in 
any other excursion that I know of, are such ice difficulties 
to be encountered. The ascent of the Wetterhorn, and the 
passage of the Findelen have difficulties of their own, 
even more formidable ; but they present no such wonderful 
collection of crevasses as are to be traversed on the ascent 
to the Col du Geant. Crevasses may be met with else- 
where, as deep, as long and as wide ; but it would be 
difficult to find another glacier, which is passable at all, 
so broken and twisted, and presenting such an amazing 



GLACIER ENERGY. 



27 



labyrinth of crevasses and chasms, as that portion of the 
Glacier du Geant, which lies between the base of the 
Aiguille Noire, and the foot of the Tacnl. 

It is a scene of which it is difficult by description to 
give even a faint idea ; but it is one which, I think, must 
remain indelibly fixed in the memory of every one 
who has beheld it, and which it would not be easy for the 
most apathetic spectator to gaze upon without astonish- 
ment and emotion. There is hardly a sight among the 
Alps, so calculated to impress the mind with an idea of 
the prodigious energies of glacier action. If we consider 
that all this disruption and shattering of the solid body of 
ice, which streams down from above, is caused by the mere 
force of pressure, as the descending ice is squeezed into a 
narrow channel, and over a rocky ridge ; that every particle 
of the compact and continuous ice above is, in its turn, 
forced into the same cleft, and undergoes the same process, 
after passing through which, it is again urged over a gentler 
inclination, and, at the junction with the other tributaries 
of the Mer de Glace, compacted more solidly and densely 
than ever, we shall see that glacier agency is amongst 
the most potent and awful forces of nature. Nor can the 
imagination help being powerfully impressed, when it 
contemplates the slow but steady, certain and irresistible 
march of these stupendous accumulations of ice and snow, 
The part of the glacier where we left our ladder, will 
arrive opposite the foot of the Tacul in about forty years, 
after undergoing the tremendous changes to which the 
configuration of its channel will subject it in the gorge 
beneath the Aiguille Noire. 

Those who undertake the passage of the Col du Geant 

c 2 



28 



GUIDES. 



must feel glad that it occurs in the neighbourhood of 
Chamouni. The guides of Chamouni are, generally speaking, 
far superior to those of any other part of Switzerland, 
especially in all the difficulties of the ice. It has been, 
for many years, more the habit of tourists to make 
difficult expeditions from Chamouni, than in any other part 
of Savoy or Switzerland. Even ladies not unfrequently 
venture to cross the Mer de Glace and visit the Jardin, 
and most gentlemen make that excursion. Hence, there 
are few of the guides but have more or less familiarity with 
the ice, and although, especially under the regulations 
which have recently prevailed, very incompetent persons 
are often enrolled among the corps of guides, the 
proportion of tolerable guides is greater at Chamouni 
than any where else that I know ; and the best among 
them are beyond comparison with those of other parts. The 
inhabitants of this region are naturally a bold and hardy 
race, and they exhibit a courage and enterprize in exploring 
the recesses of their native mountains, and a readiness 
and fertility of resource in moments of difficulty or 
danger, which make them most valuable companions 
in any considerable mountain expedition. The abominable 
reglements, to which allusion has been already made, 
greatly interfere with that freedom of selection which 
ought to exist. You have to contend with the evils of 
monopoly, instead of enjoying the advantages of free trade. 
But still, by a little patience and management, if you have 
a day to spare, you may generally secure one or two 
guides of tried courage and ability, and sometimes, on the 
more difficult and dangerous excursions, the chief guide 
will allow you to select one out of the requisite number. 



GUIDES. 



29 



For a passage like that of the " Grand Col/ 3 I would 
rather have two Chamouni guides than a dozen from any 
other part of Switzerland or Sardinia; though I should 
be sorry to undertake it without one, at least, of my own 
choosing. It requires great experience, coolness and 
courage to find the way through such a tremendous 
labyrinth as the difficult part of the passage presents. 

The expedition is a costly one — under present rules, three 
guides for one traveller is the number fixed by the tariff ; 
and it was with great difficulty that we were able to induce 
the chief guide to allow us to start with only four. The 
number is not so outrageous as it might at first sight appear. 
When all goes well, as it did with us, and no accident or 
untoward circumstance occurs, three would be quite sufficient 
for two travellers, and we might have managed with two. 
But it is not always so. Persons unacquainted with the 
high glacier passes can scarcely reckon confidently on their 
endurance, and not always on their nerve. It would be no 
disgrace to a man, who was passing over a high glacier for 
the first time, to be daunted by the terrors of the Col du 
Geant, or, without being actually alarmed, to require a 
great deal of time, and a considerable amount of assistance 
in traversing those dizzy bridges and narrow parapets of 
slippery ice or treacherous snow, which must often be his 
only way of advancing — trusting, perhaps, to a narrow foot- 
hole cut in the side of a bank of ice, inclined at an angle of 
60° or 70°, and offering no resting place, in case of a slip, 
till he arrived too speedily at the bottom of a deep crevasse. 
There are many situations of tlnVkind, in which it is im- 
possible to feel confident of safety, till familiarity has in 



30 



THE REAL DANGERS, 



some degree deadened the sense of danger, and blunted the 
keenness of imagination. 

After a while, one learns by experience that the real 
dangers are not always the apparent ones, and that the 
proximity of a curtain of snow of unwelcome steepness, or 
an exposure to the moraine of an overhanging glacier is a 
far more formidable risk than the necessity of passing 
along the ridge of a precipitous arete, or of trusting to a 
bridge of snow in crossing a crevasse ; but it is not, and 
cannot be, so at first. In case of accident or difficulty, it is 
a terrible thing to be underhanded on the high glaciers. 
If only two persons were crossing a glacier like that of the 
Geant, and one fell into a concealed crevasse, an occurrence 
against which no precautions can always ensure the tra- 
veller, he would be as likely to drag down his companion, 
as his companion would be to haul him up. Three is the 
smallest number of persons that ought ever to undertake 
such a passage, and, by keeping far enough apart, three 
may always be safe from any serious danger of this 
kind. There is much to carry on such an expedition. 
Eopes are absolute necessities, and a ladder nearly so ; 
the labour and fatigue are very great, the air is keen, and 
the appetite wonderfully stimulated. Provisions calculated 
at the rate which suffices in the plains would be wofully 
insufficient; and I defy any man, however romantic, to 
enjoy himself at the top of a great glacier pass, if he be 
undergoing the cravings of a ravenous hunger. Generally 
speaking, the traveller is not inclined to carry much him- 
self, and the guides have to carry his traps and provisions 
as well as their own. Hence, two guides for one traveller, 



EXPENSE. 



31 



and three guides for two travellers, is by no means too 
liberal an allowance. "We were not sorry that we had four. 
The " tarif 93 for the " course " is fifty francs a guide ; a 
large sum, but less unreasonable than it might at first 
sight appear, when it is considered that they have to return 
by the Col de Eerret and the Tete Noire, a good two days' 
journey, to Chamouni. If you are returning yourself, and 
keep them to accompany you, the price is no more. Most 
travellers, if they are pleased with the men's conduct, (as 
they are almost sure to be) give them a trifling bonnemain 
besides. The fifty francs includes the broken day passed 
between Chamouni and the Montanvert, and their expenses 
at that inn ; so that, in reality, it represents four days' 
pay ; and the day of the passage itself is a very heavy one. 
It occupied us, under favourable circumstances, nearly 
eighteen hours, and our guides were carrying from twenty 
to thirty pounds weight a-piece, besides the ladder, for a 
great part of the day. On the passage, you always provide 
food for your guides. They are content with very simple 
fare, and generally propose, of their own accord, to take 
commoner wines and coarser food for themselves. I have 
always declined this arrangement, and insisted upon our 
all sharing alike on such occasions. The difference in 
expense is not worth consideration, and it helps to promote 
that kindly feeling and good fellowship amongst the party, 
on which so much of the pleasure of the expedition must 
depend. Our provisions for the day cost about fifty 
francs, for which we had three hearty meals, breakfast, 
lunch, and dinner, (or, to speak more properly, breakfast 
and two dinners) seven bottles of good wine and lemonade, 
and a flask or two of brandy ; so that the expense of the 



32 



VIEW UP THE VAL d'aOSTA. 



whole expedition may be reckoned at something between 
£10 and £12. It might, perhaps, be done a little 
cheaper ; but not much. It is, however, well worth the 
money. 

I have only to add that the pass should, I think, be 
taken from Chamouni. The guides of Courmayeur are 
very inferior to those of Chamouni, and the views are, on 
the whole, finer, as seen in ascending from Chamouni, and 
descending upon Courmayeur, than in crossing the oppo- 
site way. The ascent from Courmayeur is so extremely 
steep, and the mountains rise so abruptly overhead, that 
it must require a continual effort to gaze up at 
them. On the other hand, the approach to Cour- 
mayeur from the Aosta is one of the grandest 
rides in Europe; and if the course of your journey 
leads you down, instead of up, the Yal d' Aosta, (as would 
be the case if you crossed from Chamouni) this magnifi- 
cent scene would be in a great measure lost, as you could 
only enjoy it for a few moments at a time, by turning 
round to look back at it, (always a tedious process) instead 
of having it constantly before you. If I were about to 
cross from Courmayeur, I should write to some of my 
old friends at Chamouni to meet me on the south side. 
The expense would be the same as that of engaging guides 
at Courmayeur. The difficulties of the ice are probably 
about equally great, whichever way the passage be made. 



CHAPTER II. 



A NIGHT ON THE MER DE GLACE, AND A LADY'S 
VISIT TO THE JARDIN. 

I lay on that rock where the storms have their dwelling, 
The birth-place of phantoms, the home of the cloud ; 

Around it for ever deep music is swelling, 
The voice of the mountain wind, solemn and loud. 

Mrs. Hemans. 

Noctes coenseque Deum ! 

Hon. 



GIVING THE " CHEE-GUIDE " THE SLIP — HOW TO CARRY CREAM IN 
THE MOUNTAINS — DANGERS OF THE GLACIERS — ARRIVAL AT THE 
TACUL — AN AIRY LODGING — ee DIFFICULTIES " OF THE COL DU 
GEANT REVISITED — SUPPER ON THE MORAINE — NIGHT AMONG 
THE GLACIERS — A COLD BATH — USEFUL COFFEE-POT — SUNRISE 
ON THE MER DE GLACE — LES EGRALETS — THE JARDIN — 
RETURN TO THE MONTANVERT — DESCENT TO CHAMOUNI IN THE 
DARK — REMARKS — DESIRABLE ARRANGEMENT. 

I was at Chamouni in the autumn of 1854, accompanied 
by my wife and brother-in-law ; and after the usual round 
of excursions, after visiting the Elegere, and the Montan- 
vert, essaying the passage of the " Ponts/' ascending the 

c 3 



34 



WHERE TO SLEEP. 



Breven, and watching from that glorious point of view a 
very successful ascent of Mont Blanc, I experienced a 
growing desire to introduce my wife to some of the wilder 
and grander features of glacier scenery, and to give her a 
little insight into what exploring the recesses of the High 
Alps really involved. I was satisfied that the great fatigue 
of reaching and returning from the Jar din in the same 
day, even if we slept two nights at the Montanvert, would 
destroy all the pleasure she would otherwise derive from 
the expedition, even if it did not prove altogether beyond her 
strength ; besides which, a lady unaccustomed to the rough 
accommodation of such places would be very likely to pass 
but an indifferent night at the Montanvert : and the 
thought struck me, whether it would not be practicable, 
with proper provision and precaution, to camp out on the 
way. It appeared to me that the foot of the Tacul might 
very likely afford the means of extemporizing a tolerable 
shelter for the night. I consulted Balmat, and found that 
he entertained no doubt as to the feasibility of the under- 
taking. 

There was a great rock, on the side of the moraine 
of the Mer de Glace, near the Lac de Tacul, under which 
he had passed many a night while on hunting excursions, 
or with Professor Forbes, in the course of his long and 
arduous investigations of the phenomena and causes of 
glacier motion. There would be little difficulty in render- 
ing this such a shelter as Madame might safely trust to, 
and he would guarantee that no colds should be caught. 
Accordingly, after some deliberation, we resolved upon 
making the experiment. We thought it prudent to keep 
the matter very quiet, as we did not know what exorbitant 



KEEPING OUR COUNSEL. 



35 



conditions the chief guide might deem it his duty to im- 
pose in such a case. Balmat knew a man, whose cottage 
we had passed on the ascent of the Breven, old, but hale 
and hardy, trusty as steel, and who could keep his coun- 
sel, whom he would engage in the enterprize. He was 
very poor, he added, and seldom tasted meat, but 
upright and honest, and had brought up a large family in 
industry and respectability, and the little money he would 
earn would be welcome to him. He was accustomed to 
sleep out on the mountains, and was known, at times, to 
employ himself in seeking crystals, so that his appearance 
on the way towards the Montanvert would excite no sus- 
picion, though he was not a regular guide. There was 
also a " bon garcon" he knew in the village, who would 
suit our purpose, but whom he would not speak to till we 
were about to start. We were going that day to the 
Chapeau, and thence across the Mer de Glace to the 
Montanvert, and the landlord of the Montanvert was a 
friend of his, and he would engage with him to supply all 
that was wanted, giving him a hint, at the same time, that 
if the affair got wind, we should stay at Chamouni, as we 
wished to be private. 

In pursuance of this plan, the old man was appointed to 
meet us at the Montanvert by nine o'clock in the morning, 
and during our halt at the Montanvert, on the day we 
visited the Chapeau, the requisite understanding was come 
to with the innkeeper, and certain preparations were 
ordered to be quietly made for the following day. We 
descended to Chamouni, which we reached about seven, 
and gave directions to be called at live the next morning, 
as we wished to be abroad early. We found we were wise 



36 



KEEPING OUR COUNSEL. 



in having been so quiet about the matter ; for when we 
announced, on the morning of the 28th of August, that we 
were going to the Montanvert and the Mer de Glace, and 
should not return to Chamouni that night, the waiters and 
attendants'* beset Balmat with questions as to what we 
were going to do, and why we were going to sleep at the 
Montanvert, and what made us so fond of the Mer de 
Glace. "Why, it is the third time that Monsieur and 
Madame have made that course. Once is enough for most 
people." Balmat had some difficulty in putting off his 
inquisitive querists, but he managed to foil them, and we 
got off without any one having the least idea what we 
were going to do. The " bon garcon " joined us at a 
quarter of an hour's distance from the hotel, and took 
charge of my wife's mule; and as we started at seven 
o'clock, we were before most of the world of tourists, and 
at the Montanvert found no one but the old man, waiting 
for us, and one or two persons who had been sleeping at 
the inn. We thus escaped two annoyances — that of 
having a multitude of unnecessary guides thrust upon us 
by the authorities of Chamouni, and that of having a 
troop of spectators to watch us. Judging from the noise 
the expedition made, when it became known, it is "not 
unlikely that we should have had half Chamouni assem- 
bled to see us start, and perhaps should have been 

* M. Eisenkraemar, (or, as the guides call him, M. Ferdinand) 
the excellent landlord of the Hotel Royal, to whom I am indebted 
for many acts of courtesy and attention, had been taken into our 
plans, and had given us, as he always does, every assistance in 
his power; but he had kept his counsel 3 and no one else in the 
house knew the object of our excursion. 



HOW TO CARRY CREAM. 



37 



tracked by some curious spirits to our resting-place for 
the night. 

Our preparations took some time to complete ; but we 
started the old man, loaded with a mattrass rolled up, 
and strapped across his shoulder and packed a large basket, 
such as the country people carry on their backs, with 
sheets and blankets, over which we stowed a three-legged 
coffee pot, destined to be of signal service, a supply of 
glasses, knives, forks and spoons, and then a layer of 
provisions ; and with this we despatched the " bon 
garcon," while we stayed some time longer at the 
Montanvert, to look after the rest of our outfit : for the 
one stratum of eatables, carried by the "bon garcon/' 
was only a snack, compared with what was wanted. 
Six hungry people had to be provisioned for a day and a 
half spent in the keen atmosphere of the glaciers. A 
dish of beautiful wild alpine strawberries, with sugar and 
rich mountain cream, gave us not unprofitable occupation 
for part of the time we were obliged to wait. There was 
one luxury, however, which Balmat was bent upon having, 
which could not be hurried ; he was resolved we should 
not drink our tea without cream, and accordingly prepared 
a bottle of cream in a fashion which was new to me, but 
which perfectly answered the end in view. The cream is 
boiled, then left to stand till cold, then poured into a 
bottle tightly corked. In this way, it will carry for hours 
in a hot sun, and be none the worse for the journey. 
On arriving at the halting place, the cork must be taken ' 
out, and the bottle deposited in a cool and shady spot. 
There is hardly any difference perceptible, between tea 



38 



THE FONTS. 



made with cream prepared in this way, and tea made with 
fresh cream. 

The cream took a long time to cool, and it was eleven 
o'clock before we set off from the Montanvert, and took 
the narrow and (to me) familiar path, which leads to the 
glacier. It was a glorious day, without a cloud to speck the 
deep blue of the boundless vault of heaven, and a gentle 
and refreshing breeze from the glacier tempered the heat 
of the mid- day sun ; my wife proved herself a capital moun- 
taineer, and thought nothing of the passage of the Fonts. 
As a measure of precaution, Balmat went first and gave 
her his hand, while I scrambled along, just beneath where 
she was walking, so as to be able to catch her, in case of 
a slip ; but it was unnecessary, and she could very well 
have dispensed with any assistance. Close to the Ponts, 
I gathered from the rock a most beautiful specimen of 
the brilliant Geum montanum. We took to the glacier 
before reaching the Angle, though the ice is much crevassed, 
as it is not safe to proceed beneath the glacier of Charmoz, 
exposed to the discharge of blocks of ice, and of stones 
from its terminal moraine. Balmat pointed out to us, on 
the opposite heights, above the glacier of J^ant Blanc, the 
junction of the beds of gneiss and granite, which is exceed- 
ingly well defined, the strata of gneiss running upwards, 
and being crowned by an unstratified mass of granite. 

He recounted to us a thrilling incident of which he 
had been a witness, from near the spot on which we stood. 
He was at work with Professor Forbes, on the Mer de 
Glace, opposite the Nant Blanc, when they saw a huge 
rock, as large as a house, just beginning to move; and, 



A NARROW ESCAPE. 



39 



to their dismay, beheld a shepherd watching his flock, 
right underneath the rock, and in the very track it must 
take. The man was unconscious of Ins danger. They 
shouted, and shouted as loud as ever they could — and the 
shout of a Savoyard mountaineer may generally be heard 
a good way off — but in vain; they could not attract his 
attention. A torrent was roaring by his side, and its 
noise drowned all other sounds. They thought his 
destruction certain, and shuddered at the sight, which 
Balmat said turned him sick ; when, just above the pea- 
sant, the rock took a leap, and shot over his head, covering 
him with soil and debris. They saw him get up, shake 
himself, and look up and down, to see whence the shower 
of dirt had come ; but' he was not hurt, and probably less 
alarmed than they had been. 

We had a beautiful walk over the ice, especially when 
we had advanced some distance, and it became more com- 
pact and less crevassed. We crossed the shoulder of the 
Trelaporte, where we stopped to take our mid-day meal. 
Balmat pointed out to us, a short distance from where we 
sat, a deep precipice of granite, on a narrow ledge of 
which, some ten or twelve feet from the top, he had, during 
one of his excursions with Professor Forbes, discovered an 
unhappy traveller, who had fallen from the top, and was 
saved from immediate destruction by lighting upon this 
fearful spot. His hands were torn and mangled in the 
fall, and he had passed the whole night, and part of the 
following day, in all the agony of hopeless suspense, with 
no prospect before him but that of a dreadful and lingering 
death. When, with great difficulty, he was rescued, it 
appeared as if the shock had been too great for reason to 



40 



DREADFUL SITUATION. 



withstand; and for the time, at least, he seemed beside 
himself. Balmat had heard, though he was not confident 
of the accuracy of his information, that he never entirely 
recovered the use of his faculties ; and the supposition was 
borne out by the fact that Balmat had never since heard 
from him, or received one word or expression of thanks, 
directly or indirectly conveyed. This, however, I only 
learned from questions that I put myself; and Balmat, 
with characteristic modesty, never informed us that, to save 
the unfortunate man, he had placed himself in the most 
extreme and imminent peril, and had, in fact, been all but 
lost himself."* 

After lunch, we descended again to the glacier, on 
reaching which, instead of bearing to the left, as we should 
have done if making for the Jardin, we struck across 
towards the head of the great basin of the Glacier de 
Lechaud, which, for half an hour, lay in front of us, guarded 
by a semi-circle of enormous crags, from whose precipitous 
summits hang down on every side steep and shaggy 
glaciers, terminated by one long line of enormous crevasses, 
such as in Switzerland are called bergschrunds, and which 
always occur at the foot of an arete of this kind, 
separating the abrupt curtain of ice above, from the flatter 
portion of the glacier below. 

At length, we turned sharply to the right, fronting the 
passage to the Col du Geant, though the Col itself was hidden 
from us by the huge moraine of the Mer de Glace. A few 
minutes more brought us to the foot of the moraine, on 
climbing which a striking scene burst upon the view. We 

* The incident is graphically related in Professor Eorbes's admi- 
rable work, " Travels through the Alps of Savoy," p. 82. 



AN AIRY LODGING. 



41 



gazed clown a deep valley, Ml half a mile across, which ran 
between us and the foot of the Tacnl — the side on which 
we stood being formed by the moraine of the Mer de Glace, 
many hundreds of feet in height. This moraine was partly 
composed of the largest rocks and boulders I ever saw on 
a moraine ; and at its foot, in the broadest part of the 
valley, was the flat sandy bed of a glacier lake, now empty. 
Across this wild ravine were the green slopes of the Tacul, 
covered with herbage, and even supporting quantities of 
dwarf rhododendrons ; and in front lay the magnificent 
approach to the Col du Geant, and the grand amphitheatre 
of peaks and glaciers which stretches from the borders of the 
Col to the Aiguille de Blaitiere. Behind us, was the 
scarcely less magnificent amphitheatre, which encloses the 
Jardin and the Glacier du Talefre, which pours forth from 
the opening below, in an impassable cataract of torn and 
shattered ice. 

We descended a short distance over the moraine, and 
towards the bed of the lake which lay beneath us ; and 
presently arrived at the wild spot which was to be our 
resting place for the night. One huge rock had fallen 
upon another, and thus made a rude cave, some ten or 
twelve feet long, and at the opening three or four feet 
wide, and as many high, narrowing off, and shelving 
upwards towards the back, till the cave was not more than 
three feet across, and a couple of feet in height. A glance 
at the place sufficed to convince us that we should not 
suffer, at all events, from want of ventilation. Each end 
was open to the air ; and between the rocks that formed the 
sides and roof of the cavern, were numerous apertures and 
crannies, through which the night wind would make its 



42 GLACIER DU GEANT REVISITED. 



way with perfect ease. However, we had come prepared 
to rough it, and we saw nothing more formidable than we 
had expected. The valley itself, half way up the side of 
which our hut was perched, was in a sheltered situation, 
and exposed to the wind only on the west, that is, on the 
side of the Col du Geant. The weather was splendid, and 
we were amply provided with the means of keeping up both 
external and internal warmth. 

It was four o'clock when we arrived, and we found the 
old man, and the "bon garcon" there before us, quite 
ready for their dinner, poor fellows ! as they had modestly 
waited till we should come up, before they would touch the 
provisions they had carried. We soon set them to work, 
and Balmat and I unrolled the mattrass, making first a floor 
of stones, as even as we could, and spread it at the upper 
end of the cavern, and then with the sheets and blankets 
we had brought, made up a very respectable couch. We 
drove two alpenstocks into the ground, just outside the 
entrance, and fastening a large plaid in front, converted it 
into quite a retired and snug apartment. Having arranged 
these matters, and finding that my wife and her brother 
were disposed to sketch, Balmat and I resolved upon taking 
a stroll towards the Col du Geant ; and accordingly started 
about half past four, directing the two porters, as soon as 
they had satisfied their hunger, to cross the valley and 
forage for firewood on the slopes of the Tacul. We des- 
cended over the rugged heaps of stones and boulders which 
form the moraine of the Mer de Glace to the bed of the 
Lac de Tacul, which we found composed of a fine and com- 
pact white sand, most agreeable to walk upon. This 
lake, which is about two hundred yards long, fills from 



AMONG THE CREVASSES. 



43 



time to time with the drainage of the glacier, when after a 
few days or weeks, its waters work a sub-glacial passage to 
some of the channels in the bottom of the Mer de Glace 
which communicate with the Arve, and finally carry off the 
water. After a while, by some shifting of the ice, this 
channel gets blocked up, and the lake fill.s again, and 
remains full till its waters have found another exit beneath 
the body of the glacier. At this time, it was perfectly 
dry, though its sandy bed was traversed here and there by 
rills of transparent ice-cold water, which at length united 
into a larger stream rushing with considerable noise and 
vehemence towards the side of the Mer de Glace, where 
it passed beneath a dark blue vault, and was lost to sight. 

Beyond the lake, we mounted again upon the ice, and, 
pushing rapidly forward, arrived in about an hour and a 
half at the well-remembered labyrinth of crevasses, which 
we had successfully threaded just one year and five days 
before. The sun was getting low, but we could not forbear 
advancing a short distance, that we might take one more 
look into the bosoms of some of those profound and 
terrible chasms which, once beheld, can never be forgotten, 
and whose mysterious and awful charms exert such an 
irresistible and growing fascination upon almost all who 
have once ventured amongst them, and gazed into their 
blue and silent depths. But, at length, the sun was 
fairly gone. TVe had a long hour's walk before we could 
regain our hut ; and in the dark it would not be easy to 
retrace our steps. Eeluctantly we turned our backs upon 
this scene of glory and of wonder, and rapidly descended 
the glacier towards the Lac de Tacul. Balmat did not 
like it at all ; he shook his head, and said it " produced an 



44 



SUPPER ON THE MORAINE. 



effect" upon him. " Ah, monsieur, si nous etions seuls, 
vous et raoi, nous y passerions certainement demain ; mais, 
avec madaine, cela ne se peut pas, quoiqu'elle marche 
extremement bien." 

It was past seven, and quite dusk, when we reached our 
bivouac. The sketches had been finished long since ; and 
we found a general and anxious desire for tea. There was 
a large piece of rock just below our cabin, whose top 
formed a flat slab, and made an excellent table. Balmat, 
who always liked to do things nicely, had even brought up 
a table cloth, which was laid on the rock ; and on this was 
soon spread a tempting array of bread, butter, cold chicken 
and mutton, cheese, biscuits, and raisins. Salt and sugar 
were not forgotten; and a stock of potatoes lay at our 
feet to roast in the ashes of our wood-fire. There was, 
however, no kettle to boil the water in — no vessel, in fact, 
but three tumblers, and the three-legged coffee-pot j so we 
resolved to try a decoction of tea, instead of an infusion, 
and putting our tea into the coffee-pot, sent one of the 
men down the bed of the lake, a couple of hundred yards 
off, to fill it with water. While Balmat and I had been 
away, a copious stock of rhododendrons had been grubbed 
up by the two men, and a good fire was kindled, on which 
the tea was set to boil. 

It was soon ready, and with the help of the bottle of 
cream, which had stood the journey admirably, a famous 
beverage was concocted. A more delightful evening was 
never passed, than we spent seated around that rhododen- 
dron fire, on the shore of that great sea of ice. The 
expedition had been so far a grand success, and the 
cookery, both of tea and potatoes, was unanimously voted 



THE GLACIERS BY NIGHT. 



45 



a chef-d'ceuvre. We sat chatting, joking and laughing, 
listening to Balmat's anecdotes of adventures among the 
glaciers, and watching the darkening sky, and the stars 
appearing one by one, till the high vault of heaven 
glittered with a thousand sparkling points of light, and 
deep night had settled on the eternal snows, and the 
solemn heights around. I know nothing in nature more 
striking than the change from day to night amidst the 
glaciers. A glacier, though a scene of tremendous desola- 
tion, is not, in the day time, and in the height of summer, 
a scene of silence, or of absolute stillness. On the 
summits, indeed, and at very great elevations, 

" Dull, dead silence reigns, 
Ever, for ever, in the unsyllabled air 

but in the lower parts of a glacier, below the regions of the 
neve, this is not the case ; a thousand channels furrow the 
surface, down which rush impetuous and brawling streams, 
and at length precipitate themselves with a mysterious, 
muffled sound, into those extraordinary pits, called 
" Moulins," which often penetrate nearly to the bottom 
of the glacier, and afford the means of estimating its 
depth. Hardly five minutes ever pass, without the still- 
ness being interrupted by the sharp report of an opening 
crevasse, or the noise of rocks, stones, or blocks of ice, 
which have been broken off, or deprived of their support 
by the advance or melting of the glacier, and are pushed 
into a crevasse, or toppled over the edge of a precipice. 

This is especially the case in the afternoon of a bright 
day, when the warmth of a summer sun has caused the 



46 



A USEFUL COFFEE-POT. 



melting of the surface on which, the stones are borne, or from 
which the blocks of ice are detached, to go on with more 
than usual energy. But the moment the sun is withdrawn, 
a change begins to take place : the melting ceases, the 
supplies of the superficial glacier streams are cut off, they 
themselves are frozen up, and the tumult of their noisy 
waters hushed. The volleys of stones are but seldom 
discharged; the blocks of ice are still less often disrupted 
from the parent mass ; and the stillness of death reigns 
where, lately, the sounds of motion and of active energy 
were heard. I have mentioned elsewhere, when speaking 
of our passage of the AHelein glacier, the piercing cold 
which succeeded, in a moment, to a hot sunshine, when 
a cloud passed over us, and how the breath froze instantly 
upon our veils. When such a change occurs simul- 
taneously over the whole of those vast regions, it may well 
be conceived how effectually all the phenomena which owe 
their existence to heat are arrested. Sounds are still heard 
during the night, from time to time — the thunder of the 
distant avalanche, the crash of an occasional rock, or mass 
of ice, falling into a crevasse, or down a crag ; but the 
continuous hum of glacier life is heard no more, and in 
the intervals all is mute as the grave. 

After our tea, the men had used the pot to make their 
own coffee ; and before retiring for the night, it was applied 
to a third species of cookery. Balmat, with his usual 
forethought, had brought some spice from Chamouni, and 
with this he compounded in the three-legged utensil some 
admirable mulled St. George, and just as we were about 
to settle for the night, he handed it through the curtain, 
and urged us all to partake of it, as an excellent preserva- 



a night's rest. 



47 



tive against cold. We did so, and pronounced the pot in 
which it was cooked equal to a " magic stove," and the 
presiding chef, a very Soyer. 

I cannot honestly say that we slept very soundly. The 
floor of our cavern was on a considerable slope, and I 
found myself in a state of constant effort to keep myself 
from sliding out at the lower end. Sometimes, I was 
smothered in the bed-clothes ; sometimes, I awoke from a 
doze with a shiver, and found that all the coverings had 
left me, on a visit to some one else. Several times, my hair 
got entangled in some dry twigs, which had been left at 
the upper end of the apartment, and occupied the place 
where the pillow might have gone, had there been one. 
In one position, at which I several times arrived, without 
any wish of my own, I could see " the spangled heavens, 
a shining frame," with the stars winking at me, as if they 
were asking me how I liked it. I was frequently tempted 
to think that the men who lay outside, grouped about the 
fire, had the best of it ; but Ealmat confessed to me, next 
morning, that it had been rather cold ; and I know that, 
about three o' clock, the wind came very freezingly even 
into our comparative shelter, through the ventilating parts 
of the structure. I have spoken of my own condition 
only, for I do not pretend to record the experiences of 
others. I think, however, that my wife was much better 
off than I was, and I fancy that my brother-in-law must 
have been a shade or two more uncomfortable. It was a 
grand and solemn time, though, despite its discomforts. 
Until the wind became strong, which it did an hour or so 
before daybreak, the silence was so profound as to be op- 
pressive. Not the lightest sound broke the deep and 



45 



A COLD BATH. 



death-like tranquillity, except the occasional crash of an 
avalanche, whose thunder seemed but to intensify the 
stillness which ensued, when its reverberated echoes had 
died away. 

Soon after four, my brother-in-law and I crept forth, and 
found the men just beginning to bestir themselves. The 
day had scarcely yet begun to dawn, but there was light 
enough for me to make my way down to the bed of the 
lake, in search of a morning bath. There was no water- 
course large enough for a dip, except the main stream of all 
which disappeared beneath the glacier, and was too large 
and impetuous to be safe ; and I had, therefore, to content 
myself with a wash in a shallow rivulet. I found I had 
forgotten to bring a towel down with me, and having stuck 
my alpenstock in the ground to mark the place, returned 
to fetch one from the hut. I discovered that, with all our 
care, we had forgotten the lavatory department, and that 
we must trust to the sheets to supply the want in question, 
while the universal pot must be put into requisition for my 
wife's toilet. I bore it off with me, and found that in my 
absence, the rivulet had been covered with a sheet of ice 
above an eight of an inch thick ; so keen was the frost at 
this hour. However, the ice was soon broken, and I took 
the coldest bath I ever had— after which, I filled the coffee 
pot, and carried it back to perform another of the multifa- 
rious objects of its mission upon earth. How it was to be 
used, I will not pretend to say ; it reminded me of the 
repast the stork provided for the fox, when he played him 
the return match ; for it was far too narrow at the mouth 
to admit any human hand. 

While my wife was engaged in solving the problem, I 



SCENE OF SILENCE. 



49 



searched the neighbourhood of our hut, for some memorials 
of our visit, to bring away. I could find no crystals worth 
keeping, though they are picked up of great size and clear- 
ness, near the bed of the lake. Yegetation was, in general, 
very poor and scanty ; but I found a fine head of the 
gentiana purpurea, flourishing almost as lustily as if it were 
in the plain. Ladies' mantle (alchemilla vulgaris) grew spa- 
ringly, and was somewhat dwarfed, and a few plants of the 
dwarf everlasting (gnaphalium supinum) were scattered 
here and there. I gathered some beautiful specimens of 
salix herbacea, which showed that, even amidst these soli- 
tudes, nature was not unmindful of the wants of the 
chamois. These appeared to me to be the only representa- 
tives of the vegetable kingdom (except lichens) which the 
moraine supported. 

It was five o'clock when my wife emerged, and we 
climbed to the summit of the moraine, and gazed upon the 
awful scene of silent desolation around us. The stillness 
was prof o under than ever ; we longed for some sound or 
sight of motion to relieve the tension of the mind and the 
senses. It is only by the contrast such moments afford, 
that one becomes aware how far the glaciers are, at mid- 
day, from being mute and inanimate. A vast mass of 
solid cloud lay before us, in the direction of the distant 
valley of Chamouni, still and motionless as the eternal rocks 
on either hand, and seemed to cut us off from all the living 
world. The white snows looked whiter than ever, in the 
cold light of the early morning, and the awful peaks and 
summits which girt us round seemed closer, vaster, more 
solemn and majestic than in the glare of noon. Such 
moments form epochs in one's life. It would be as easy to 



50 



A COLD BREAKFAST. 



forget oneself, as to lose the recollection of that wonderful 
and mysterious scene. 

The cold was still intense, and we were glad to find a 
good fire awaiting us on our return, and to learn that the 
coffee-pot had made another trip to the streams below, and 
was now brewing the tea for our morning meal, to which we 
sat down about half past five, our table being formed by 
the same broad slab of rock on which our supper had been 
spread. The breakfast, however, was much less successful 
than the supper. It was bitterly cold, and the whole affair 
wanted the zest and spirit of the preceding evening. A 
bad night's rest, the thermometer below the freezing point, 
and a cold wind blowing over a glacier, are not inspiriting 
accessaries to a fete champetre. 

The breakfast, therefore, it must be confessed, was flat; and 
we were not sorry to put ourselves in motion. Before start- 
ing, however, we again mulled some good red wine in the 
ever useful coffee-pot, a draught of which steaming beverage 
put new warmth into our chill and half-numbed frames. 
Balmat took charge of one knapsack, packed with goodly 
store of provender, for the long day's work which yet re- 
mained, and everything else was abandoned to the two 
porters, who set off at once, with our private knapsack and 
the traps which were to be returned to the Montanvert. 
We took a different direction, and made for the rocks of 
the Couvercle. It was now half-past six. The sun was 
shining gloriously on the highest peaks, and the snow was 
so dazzling that we were all obliged to don our coloured 
spectacles and veils. My wife was somewhat tired at 
starting, so we put her between two alpenstocks, the ends 
of which were held by Balmat and myself. A kind oi 



THE COUVERCLE. 



51 



moving balustrade is thus made, and a very efficient 
assistance rendered to the person between the two sticks, 
who, of course, leans upon them, and is at once supported 
and helped along. In this way, we traversed the Glacier 
de Lechaud, (on whose lateral moraine, near its junction 
with that of the Tacul, we found some magnificent white 
lichen, growing abundantly in long pointed blades to the 
height of an inch and a half), and arrived easily at the foot 
of the Egralets. Half-way up the ascent, we rested a 
good while, as the prospect thence is finer than from the 
Jardin itself. The descending cataract of the Glacier du 
Talefre, which is here broken into absolute mountains of 
ice, is beyond description magnificent, and you have a 
more comprehensive view, both of the noble basin of the 
Glacier de Lechaud, and of the vast amphitheatre which 
encircles the Glacier du Geant. 

By the Couvercle, I found a noble piece of botrychium 
lunaria (common moonwort) ; and on the Egralets, the 
wild flowers were very abundant and beautiful. In many 
parts, the mountain side was one bed of flowers. The 
geums and golden potentillas glowed like so many minia- 
ture suns, the gentle veronica rose gracefully from the 
herbage, here and there the viola calcarata shone con- 
spicuous among lowlier flowers, and blue patches of 
myosotis alpestris contrasted pleasingly with the surround- 
ing green. 

There was far less snow on the ascent this year than on 
any of my former visits ; places, down which, last year, we 
had been able to perform glissades on the snow for hun- 
dreds of feet at a time, were now bare, dry, and dusty. 
The stretch of the Glacier du Talefre, which is crossed to 

d 2 



52 



FINE CRYSTALS. 



reach the Jardin, was not so wet as I have usually found 
it, for it was still early in the day ; and we reached the 
Jardin before ten o' clock. Here my wife and her brother 
resolved to sketch, and Balmat and I to employ our time 
in a ramble upon the further and larger branch of the 
glacier, which lies beyond the Jardin. When H. and I 
were here, two years before, we had requested our guides 
to conduct us back by a different route from that by which 
we had come ; namely, across the glacier, and down the 
shaggy side of the base of the Aiguille de Lechaud, 
descending upon the Glacier de Lechaud, beneath the 
Pierre de Beranger, and above its junction with the 
Glacier du Talefre. We had two bad guides, and they 
had absolutely refused to return by this route, alleging 
that the descent from the Jardin to the ice was bad, and 
the crevasses of the glacier dangerous. The latter assertion 
we could see to be untrue, and I was therefore not sur- 
prised to find the former equally without foundation. In 
a few minutes we reached the ice, without the least diffi- 
culty, and found it compact and hard, and the footing 
admirable. We crossed to the other side, and wandered up 
and down the moraine beneath the Aiguille de Lechaud, 
where Balmat informed me good crystals were sometimes 
to be found. We had hardly begun our search, before we 
picked up two large crystals of smoky quartz, of unusual 
clearness. The largest, nearly four inches long, was with- 
out a flaw, and very dark. We could not, however, find 
any more, though Balmat thought, from geological indica- 
tions, that if we had time to climb some distance farther 
up the Aiguille, we should probably fall in with some 
treasures. 



FLORA OF THE JARDIN. 



53 



Betracing our steps across the glacier, we joined the 
rest of the party. It was past mid- day, and extremely 
hot, and I found my wife had been dozing more than 
sketching. In fact, she was exhausted, and declared she 
could not move. I was seriously alarmed, and began to 
think I had induced her to exert herself beyond her 
strength in making this expedition ; but I knew the heat 
of the Jardin, and hoped that if she could once get to the 
fresher atmosphere of the Mer de Glace, she would soon 
revive. We made the best couch we could, with the wraps 
we had brought, and with a plaid stretched upon three 
alpenstocks managed to construct a tolerable shelter from 
the rays of the sun, and laid the patient down to sleep for 
a while. In half an hour, which Balmat and I occupied 
in botanizing,* she awoke, greatly refreshed, and after the 
administration of a little cognac, " qui donne des jambes," 
(as a guide once said to me, when I lay in like evil plight, 
exhausted and nerveless) she found she was able to pro- 
ceed. 

The Glacier du Talefre was much wetter and sloppier 

* The Jardin does not look much like a garden. It is, in fact, a 
collection of huge boulders, lying on a sheltered southern slope; 
but its nooks and corners are rich in Alpine wild flowers. During a 
short and hasty search, we found, besides the ubiquitous linaria 
alpina (Alpine toadflax), genm montanum, potentilla aurea and 
euphrasia officinalis (eyebright), all of which were abundant, gentiana 
acaulis (a very fine specimen), g. punctata (also fine), g. verm, 
g. purpurea, ranunculus glacialis (small), r. alpeslris (very clear and 
delicate), potentilla alpestris, luzula lutea (yellow woodrush), erigeron 
alpinum, e. unifiorum, veronica officinalis, v. alpina, v. bellidioides 
(daisy-leaved v.), tussilago alpina (Alpine coltsfoot), primula viscosa, 
saxifraga bryoides (very bright and delicate). 



54 



A SLOPPY WALK. 



than when we came. The sun had been playing upon it 
with great force for three hours more, and every step 
plunged us into a watery slush. In this state, it is slippery 
and treacherous. Knowing that it was impossible for any 
shoes to keep the feet dry, I had advised my wife to reserve 
her thick hob -nailed boots, which she had worn in the 
morning, for the rest of the descent, and to put on a 
thinner pair I had taken the precaution to bring with us 
from the Tacul. These had no nails, and it taxed all 
Balmat's powers as well as mine to keep her from a fall 
as we recrossed the Talefre. The difficulty of keeping the 
feet without nailed boots or shoes, in such a place, is hardly 
conceivable by those who have not tried it ; sometimes we 
had very nearly to carry her, where it was unusually wet 
and slippery. However, we reached the opposite moraine 
in safety, the wet shoes and stockings were changed, 
and we began to descend the Egralets as fast as we could. 
I had been greatly afraid of this bit of the road, as the 
heat is here tremendous ; but the motion of walking 
down-hill is, of itself, a great relief after a long ascent, and 
shortly before we reached the Couvercle, a fresh breeze from 
the Mer de Glace and the Glacier du Geant saluted us, 
and gave my wife fresh strength and energy. A slice or 
two of cold chicken, and a draught of iced St. George 
proved great restoratives, and soon after we resumed our 
march across the Mer de Glace towards the Trelaporte, 
she began to feel the effects of that marvellous tonic, the 
keen atmosphere of the glaciers, and walked well again. 
She experienced, however, what I have often found, that 
the veil, though an absolute necessity when any con- 
siderable distance has to be performed amidst the ice and 



THE TRELAPORTE. 



55 



snow, adds much to the labour, by interfering with the 
freedom of respiration. On the Mer de Glace, there is 
never any lack of sights and sounds of interest, which go 
a long way towards drowning the sense of fatigue, and we 
reached the Trelaporte without difficulty, about half-past 
three. We could not fail to be reminded, in our passage 
across the glaciers, of the striking contrast we had already 
noticed between its hum of ceaseless activity at noon-day, and 
its stern repose at night. Arrived at the Trelaporte, we felt 
our difficulties to be past. The Montanvert was within easy 
reach ; the object of our expedition had been accomplished, 
we had not only visited the Jardin, but had passed a night 
amidst some of the grandest scenes in creation, and had 
witnessed a sunrise and sunset, sach as seldom indeed it 
falls to the lot of man to behold. We had seen something 
of what camping on the mountain means, and beyond the 
inconvenience of my wife's temporary exhaustion, had met 
with no check to mar our pleasure. After a few minutes' 
rest on a grassy bank at the Trelaporte, she seemed quite 
herself again, and was able to do full justice to the 
excellent meal which still remained in the knapsack of the 
provident Balmat. With cold chicken, bread, cheese, 
raisins, and chocolate, and a bottle of " Champagne du 
Mont Blanc/' (an excellent light sparkling wine) which 
we had reserved for to-day's dinner, and the remnants of 
our St. George, we sat down to a meal which would have 
done honour to any pic-nic in England, and arose new 
people, fit to begin the day's work again. My wife 
resumed her journey, with a light and elastic step which 
showed little trace of the hopeless exhaustion she had felt at 
the Jardin. We had still nearly two hours' walk to the 



56 



TIRING DESCENT. 



Montanvert, whither we arrived about six o'clock. My 
wife had so completely recovered from her fatigue, that she 
wished to return at once to Chamouni, instead of sleeping 
at the Montanvert ; so we ordered out the mule, and after 
indulging ourselves in another dish of our host's capital 
mountain strawberries, set forth again. It grew dark, 
however, long before we reached the plain, and the mule 
stumbled so much in the rough path, that she was obliged 
to dismount an hour before reaching Chamouni, and finish 
the journey on foot. There is, perhaps, nothing so tiring 
as a descent of this kind in the dark. You cannot see 
where you are going to step, or what lies in the path, and 
the feet and ancles get cruelly knocked about. The path 
from the Montanvert is often so narrow that it is very 
difficult to render effectual assistance to another person ; 
and we all found this the most painful part of the day's 
work. When we arrived, about half-past eight, at the Hotel 
Eoyal, we were all glad it was not a hundred yards further. 

The expedition I have sought to describe was, I 
believe, a new one at Chamouni. Thirty or forty years 
ago, two ladies, and a year or two back, a gentleman 
and his daughter, crossed the Col du Geant, sleeping 
at the Tacul by the way; but, with these exceptions, I 
believe no lady, before or since, had ever spent a night 
on the bare mountain side. "We have shown that the 
thing is practicable ; and I hope our example will not 
long want followers. Balmat fulfilled his promise. Not 
the ghost of a cold was caught by any one ; and after 
a couple of days' rest at Chamouni, my wife was ready to 
begin her travels again. The enjoyment of the excursion 
was far more than sufficient to compensate for the fatigue 



EEMAKKS. 



57 



and discomforts ; and some portion of these were not 
necessarily incident to the expedition. Were I to attempt 
it again, nnder similar circumstances, I should be inclined, 
in the first place, to construct a more horizontal floor than 
we did in the cavern ; we were hardly aware how much 
it would have added to our comfort. Then, again, I should 
be disposed to take more wrappings, and myself to sleep 
well rolled up in blankets, by the side of the fire. In this 
way, I think, a far better night's rest might be enjoyed by 
all. Then, again, if it appeared likely that it would be 
rather too much to reach the Jardin, there would be no 
difficulty in stopping short, half way up the Egralets. The 
views to be had thence are certainly finer than from the 
Jardin ; and no sensible person would care to push on the 
Jardin, simply for the sake of saying that he or she had 
been there. Again, we stayed too long at the Jardin. 
I forgot, in my search for crystals, how hot and exposed 
a spot it is. It would have been better to have made 
a much shorter halt there, and to have rested longer above 
the Couvercle, or on one of the moraines of the Mer de 
Glace. By aiming at a less distant point, we should 
have got back to the Montanvert in better time, and 
should have been saved the disagreeable descent in the 
dark to Chamouni. By sleeping before and after the ex- 
pedition, or even only once, at the Montanvert, the labour 
of each day would be reduced within very moderate 
bounds. I have no doubt I could conduct the enterprise 
a second time, so as not to entail any unpleasant amount 
of exertion upon any one. The recompense, to a lover of 
the grand scenery of the High Alps, is such as I have no 
fear of exaggerating. Ko words can adequately describe 

d 3 



58 



REMARKS. 



the strangeness, wildness and majesty of the scene. No 
pen can record the impressions of wonder, mystery and 
awe which are stamped, once and for ever, on the sonl. 
We all of us look back on that evening, passed beside 
the rhododendron fire, as one of the most memorable in 
our lives. 

Great care is necessary in planning and carrying out 
such an undertaking. It would be madness to think of 
it, except in the most settled weather. The summer and 
autumn of 1854 were the finest that have been known for 
many a year in Switzerland ; and we were at Chamouni 
during the finest part of the season. In July, it would 
probably be too early ; in September, it would almost 
certainly be too late, for such an excursion. The first 
fortnight in August is generally fine, and the mornings 
are less intensely cold than when we were at the Tacul. 
The assistance of a superior guide is indispensable ; of 
a man who is something of a gentleman, as well as familiar 
with the ice, and whose tact and refinement will make him 
an acceptable companion where ladies are of the party, 
and will suggest to him the various little matters of 
arrangement and contrivance which may reduce to a mini- 
mum the unavoidable discomforts a lady must endure 
in so wild a spot, and with such primitive accommo- 
dation. But there is no sort of occasion for a multitude 
of guides. Two or three porters will easily carry every- 
thing that three people can require. There are no serious 
glacier difficulties to be encountered; what is wanted 
is the strength of the porter, not the skill of the 
guide. 

We performed tbe whole of the journey with only one 



THE CHIEF GUIDE AGAIN. 



59 



guide ; half a dozen more would have been of no service 
to us. A more prudent man does not breathe than our 
good friend Auguste Balmat ; and I should have gladly 
engaged any number of guides he might have thought 
advisable. 

When he returned to Chamouni, the chief guide 
sent for him, and took him severely to task for not 
insisting upon at least a guide a-piece; but Balmat 
referred him to the rule, which required one guide for 
" chaque monsieur/' and asserted that the law was silent 
in the case of ladies, and therefore he was not bound to 
provide one for my wife ; that with my brother-in-law he 
had nothing to do ; it was I who engaged him, and he was 
not bound to take another guide for the lady. " But 
suppose/' said the chief guide, " you had all fallen into a 
crevasse ?" (a thing about as likely on that part of the 
Mer de Glace, as in the chief guide's office). "Oh!" 
answered Balmat, " nous avions arrange tout cela, que 
nous ne peririons jamais tons ensemble, mais qu'il 
y aurait toujours un de laisse pour en rapporter les 
nouvelles." 

Any persons who meditated a similar expedition would 
certainly do well to follow our example, in making their 
arrangements and preparations as quietly as possible. It 
is the only way of avoiding a good deal of idle and 
troublesome curiosity, and of escaping the vexatious in- 
terference of the chief guide, who would infallibly require 
a host of unnecessary guides to be taken : not only a 
disagreeable, but a costly incumbrance. Every guide has 
not only to be paid, but to be fed; and a guide, as Mr. 



60 



EXPENSE. 



Weller said of the red-nosed man, " isn't by no means the 
sort of person you'd like to grub by contract." As we 
did it, the expense of the expedition was not formidable. 
It cost us between £5 and £6 — not a very extravagant 
sum, when divided amongst three persons; and I am 
satisfied that no one who should make the experiment 
would consider his enjoyment dearly paid for. 



CHAPTEH III. 



THE INUNDATIONS OF 1852. 

Immensum coelo venit agraen aquarum, 
Et foedam glomerant tempestatem imbribus atris 
Collectse ex alto nubes ; ruit arduus eether, 
Et pluvia ingenti sata leeta boumque labores 
Diluit ; implentur fossae, et cava flumina crescunt 
Cum sonitu. Yirg. 



Nunc ea quo pacto gignantur, et inipete tanto 
Eiant, ut possiut ictu discludere turreis, 
Disturbare domos, avellere tigna, trabeisque, 
Et monumenta virum demoliri, atque ciere, 
Esaminare homines, pecudes prosternere passing 

* * * * 

Expediam. Lucret. 



ST. EEMY — HEAVY RAIN — GERMAN STUDENTS AND NOISY ITALIANS 

THE ST. BERNARD— THE MORGUE — DESCENT IN THE RAIN — 

SWOLLEN STREAM — TIDINGS OF DISASTER — BROKEN BRIDGE — 

NIGHT AT SEMBRANCHLER MOUNTAIN WALK TO MARTIGNY 

ASPECT OF THE VALLEY OF TRIENT — MUD TORRENT — COL 

DE BALME — BAD QUARTERS — THE VALLEY OF CHAMOUNI — 
DESTRUCTIVE RAVAGES OF TEE FLOOD — STATE OF THE ROAD TO 
GENEVA — BONNEVILLE — RAPID RISE OF THE WATERS. 

On the 15th of September, 1852, the day after we 
crossed the St. Theodule, (as recorded in a subsequent 
chapter), we arrived late in the evening at St. Bemy, 
about two hours 5 walk below the Hospice of the St. 



62 



A POURING DAY. 



Bernard, on the Italian side. The evening was dark and 
rather cloudy, but the clouds were high, and there was 
nothing to make us afraid of bad weather the next day; 
and having found a return muleteer who agreed to carry 
our traps to Liddes, we arranged for a start at six the 
next morning. When we awoke, however, we found the 
rain pouring in torrents, and the leaden sky without a 
break in any direction. Every portion of the heavens 
looked exactly alike, and you could not even say that it 
was thicker here, or a little lighter there, so we turned 
round, and made use of our enforced leisure to lay in an 
extra stock of sleep. All the day long, the aspect of things 
was precisely the same — a dull, grey atmosphere, a chill 
breeze sweeping up the valley, and an universal and 
all-pervading sense of damp ; the walls running down with 
moisture ; the deep eaves of the house discharging a 
copious stream into the street, through which a respectable 
water-course was flowing ; the cattle bells sounding faintly 
through the thick atmosphere ; the cattle themselves 
steaming, as if in a vapour bath, and looking sodden and 
miserable; the few passengers up and down the valley 
shaking themselves, the moment they got under shelter, 
like dogs just out of the water, and making futile attempts 
to dry their reeking garments at the wood fire in the 
kitchen. Even in front of this it was damp, and every 
body and every thing had a limp and untidy appearance. 
The only being upon whom the weather seemed to have 
no effect, was the police and passport officer at the corner 
just above the inn, who stood in the doorway, looking 
down the street, and smoking his pipe as if it did not 
matter to him whether it was wet or fine, except that as his 



GERMAN STUDENTS. 



63 



office was pretty nearly a sinecure on a day like this, it 
was rather more agreeable to him than the sunshine. 
The muleteer came in several times, to try and persuade 
us that it was a very nice day — not at all wet — and in fact 
rather pleasanter, on the whole, than usual ; but at last he 
retired discomfited, on our telling him we should wait a 
week if the weather did not clear up. We were not 
badly off for employment, as our clothes wanted both 
substantial and ornamental repair, and we had letters to 
write ; and we passed the day with less ennui than might 
have been expected. The only incident was the irruption 
of six German students, who made more noise, and a 
heartier lunch at a smaller outlay, than I should have 
supposed it possible for six men to do. As far as my 
experience goes, it is very unfavourable to the class 
of German students one meets travelling in Switzer- 
land, in parties of six or eight together. They are, no 
doubt, a very unfair specimen of the genus ; but I have 
seldom elsewhere met with such noisy, rude and ill- 
conditioned men. A similar party, whom we met at 
Saas, behaved with a deliberate and intentional rudeness 
which I have never seen equalled, and which very nearly 
provoked a quarrel, and although that is an extreme 
case, yet I have scarcely ever found them agreeable fellow- 
travellers ; and I believe the experience of most persons 
will accord with my own in this respect. 

In the evening, a party of Italians came down through 
the rain from the Hospice ; who proved even worse com- 
panions than our student-friends, as they stayed the whole 
evening, and slept at the inn. There is hardly a more 
agreeable person to be found than the well-bred and well- 



64 



A NOISY SET. 



educated Italian gentleman, such, for instance, as a gentleman 
we had met, a day or two previously, at La Burka, who had 
come up from the plains to enjoy a few days' shooting among 
the mountains, and such as another sportsman who had been 
weather-bound like ourselves at St. Eemy, and with whom 
we had had a great deal of pleasant chat ; but the inferior 
order of Italians, such as you not unfrequently meet on 
passes like the St. Bernard, which are much used for 
business purposes, or on the great diligence roads of the 
Simplon or the St. Gothard — persons of the class of small 
tradespeople and commercial travellers — are, almost without 
exception, a very disagreeable set. These people were 
noisy, dirty, spitting, and generally ill-conditioned. One 
of them beat all men I have ever seen, in the nastiness of 
iris way of smoking. Hannibal Chollop would hardly have 
been as unpleasant a companion ; for he could " calculate 
his distance/' which this man could not do. After tea, the 
whole party of seven set to work resolutely, drinking and 
smoking. One, an elderly man of shrivelled frame, and 
wearing an enormous white neckerchief, soon got quite 
fuddled and maudlin. They engaged in a religious 
discussion about the advantages and the necessity of 
priestly intercession, and, as we thought, handled their 
topics with an irreverent and shocking familiarity. The 
half-tipsy, clerical-looking man came out particularly 
strong on matters of this kind. We found it difficult to 
write amidst their uproar, which beat even the German 
students of the morning ; but then half of these men were 
drunk. We sought to escape by going to bed ; but it was 
long before we could get to sleep, for the noise, which, the 
landlady told us next morning with great disgust, they 



WET AGAIN. 



65 



had kept up till long after midnight, having drunk between 
two or three bottles of wine a-piece. 

Friday morning (1 7th of September) was wet again, but not 
quite so hopeless to look at as it had been the day before ; 
and we got up at five, to take advantage of any improvement 
in the weather. It was past nine, however, before we were 
able to start, and then the rain came on fast in about twenty 
minutes. Still, we resolved to push on; and about eleven 
reached the Hospice, wet to the skin. Even at this 
height, there was no snow or sleet falling : rain, rain, rain, 
everywhere, both night and day — an unusual circumstance, 
which inspired some uneasiness ; as if this rain were falling 
on the snowy tops of the mountains, the drainage would 
be enormous. Already, people began to be apprehensive of 
the consequences. It was a close, hot day, much warmer 
than yesterday ; and we found walking hard work, with 
our packs to carry. I cannot say we experienced on 
this occasion the warm and hearty hospitality for which 
the convent is so celebrated. "Wet through as we were, no 
offer was made to dry our clothes ; and three or four 
travellers in the salon — none of them our own countrymen 
— monopolized the scanty fire, and showed no disposition 
to admit us within the magic circle. Happily for us, 
dinner was announced shortly after eleven; and, during 
their absence, we wrung out the wet from our dripping 
garments, and dried them as well as the small fire would 
allow us. 

The hospitality of the convent is so proverbial, that one 
is almost afraid to give any impression which may seem to 
detract from that reputation; but I must say my own 
experience has been — and many travellers have made the 



66 



THE ST. BERNARD . 



same remark to me — that it is much better to visit the 
Hospice accompanied by ladies, than as a bachelor. The 
next year, my brother and myself breakfasted at the Hospice 
one morning, and thought it rather cold comfort altogether. 
The ladies of our party, and the friend in whose charge we 
had left them for a day or two, while we crossed the Col du 
Geant, had slept there the night before, and left about ten 
minutes before we arrived. We caught them at Martigny, 
and found them loud in their praises of the abundant 
hospitality and delicate attentions of the good fathers. I 
have no doubt whatever that, were one's situation such as 
to make one stand in any real need of their good offices, no 
trouble or attention would be spared, and that the most 
careful and unremitting kindness would be lavished on the 
humblest sufferer. I am speaking only of the want of that 
external cordiality, and warmth of reception, which are so 
delightful in strange lands and strange places, and which, in 
the course of a few hours, produce an impression, to which 
the memory clings gratefully and gladly for years after- 
wards. Such a reception I certainly experienced at the St. 
Bernard, on the only occasion on which I had the good 
fortune to . visit the Hospice in company with a lady ; 
and such a reception I once met with, when not pro- 
vided with that excellent letter of recommendation, at 
the Hospice of the Simplon, where I passed one of the 
most agreeable evenings of my life, and had the pleasure of 
some hours' chat with one of the most refined and accom- 
plished gentlemen I have ever encountered. 

There is one part of the arrangements of the Hospice of 
the St. Bernard, which certainly is not creditable to their 
judgment or good taste. The only place for the guides 



FAULTY ARRANGEMENTS. 



67 



to sleep in is the common room, in which all the inferior 
orders of travellers are indiscriminately accommodated; 
and your guide, who is generally a respectable fellow, and, 
if from Chamouni, often a man of some education, and 
gifted with a strong sense of decency and propriety, is 
huddled together with beggars, tramps and ruffians of the 
most disgusting character. All travellers must be familiar 
with the horrible objects — masses of human degradation 
and deformity — which the indiscriminate bounty of a con- 
vent always attracts, and it is really painful to think of 
forcing such men as many of the guides are, to herd 
together with such beings. I have never met a guide, 
who, if questioned, did not avow that he would rather 
sleep anywhere than at the St. Bernard, and many have 
told me that, when there, they never venture to take off 
their clothes. For this reason, I should always avoid, if 
possible, making my guide sleep at the Hospice, even if I 
passed the night there myself; and I think many persons, 
if they knew the fact, would be anxious to save their 
guides from the degradation and discomfort it involves. 

About half-past twelve, the clouds appeared inclined to 
break, and having partaken of a slight lunch, we prepared 
for a start. We visited the Morgue, which I had seen 
two years before, and found many of the ghastly tenants 
hardly changed by the additional exposure. 

" Side by side. 
"Within they lie, a mournful company, 
All in their shrouds, no earth to cover them, 
In the broad day ; nor soon to suffer change, 
Though the barred windows — barred against the wolf — 
Are always open. 5 ' 



68 



THE MORGUE. 



The terrible figure in the right-hand corner, with the eyes 
starting from, the head, and that fearful expression of 
terror and mortal agony, was as perfect as ever, and seemed 
exempt from the ordinary law of decay. There was one 
new occupant — a workman who had been coming up, the 
preceding winter, from the Yalais. He had slept at the 
Cantine, but had not waited, before starting, for the cus- 
tomary messenger to arrive, with supplies of food and stimu- 
lants, and, the weather being very bad, had sunk exhausted 
in the snow, before he could complete his short journey, 
and perished with cold and hunger almost within sight of 
his destination. There he lay, just as he had fallen, on 
one side, the left knee slightly bent, and the head thrown 
back in hopeless fatigue and exhaustion. He wore a 
thick cloak, gracefully gathered about him, and well 
wrapped and fastened round the throat. It was now 
blanched by the frost, and white as marble. His skin was 
already black with exposure, and the only fragment of his 
clothes which retained a tinge of colour was part of a blue 
worsted cuff on his left wrist. No statue ever told its 
tale of suffering as did that prostrate, mouldering figure. 
"When next I saw the Morgue, the following year, there 
was no recognizable feature or expression left. AYe did 
not find the air untainted, as we had expected, but it 
came with a sickening odour, as it was blown over the 
blackening corpses within. 

It soon came on to rain again, and the swollen stream 
flooded over the path, which, for miles, was turned into 
the bed of a water-course ; and the heavy rain, and an 
impenetrable mist, rendered the walk anything but agree- 
able. Only once now and then the mists would open for 



ANCIENT GLACIER. 



69 



a moment, and, as through a rent in the grey curtain, we 
caught a glance of the great white glaciers of the Velan, 
made purer than ever by the deluge of rain. Just before 
arriving at the Cantine, we passed through a kind of little 
gorge, where the stream was confined within very narrow 
bounds, and was but an inch or two below the path, 
foaming, tearing, and raging madly along with its ac- 
cumulated waters. We thought that if the rain continued 
a few hours longer, it would be impossible to pass this 
spot. 

The scenery of the St. Bernard is so well known, that it 
would be out of place to describe it here, interesting as it 
is ; I will only mention, that the whole valley, from the 
Hospice to within a few miles of Martigny, must once 
have been the channel of a vast system of glaciers ; it is 
curious to read their history, as plainly written on the 
face of the polished and striated rocks, and marked by the 
granite boulders deposited hundreds of feet up the sides of 
the valley upon the surrounding schist and limestone, as 
ever the doom of Belshazzar was written in mystic charac- 
ters on the walls of the palace of Babylon. Even the 
lofty bulwarks of the lateral ravines are monuments of 
primaeval history, and bear record of the tributary glaciers 
which once poured down from their bare and rugged 
heights.* 

* When passing across the little plain above the Cantine, a year 
later, in fine weather, I fonnd it gemmed in the most beautiful 
manner with the tiny but brilliant flowers of the gentiana nivalis, 
which grows here in remarkable abundance. Nearer to Liddes are 
great quantities of g. campesiris, a much less elegant flower. The 
campanula rotundifolia is also found growing freely between Liddes 



70 



BROKEN BRIDGE. 



At Liddes we were able to dry our clothes, and to 
hire a carriage to take us to Martigny ; for which 
place we started about four o'clock. The road 
descends by a series of well-executed zig-zags, through 
a rich and highly cultivated country to Orsieres, after 
which it runs a long way by the side of the Drance. 
We had already begun to hear rumours of a bridge 
being broken down, somewhere, and the appearance of the 
river was not inconsistent with such a supposition. 
It was rushing with a furious and fearful stream, boiling 
and surging like an angry sea, and in places had carried 
away half of the road, had overflown its banks, snapped 
asunder trees, carried off crops and stacks of hay, sheep 
and other live-stock, and had made terrible devastation 
along its banks. The noise of the huge- boulders rolled 
over and over like play things, which came up smothered 
through the water, was really awful. At Sembranchier, 
they told us the bridge by which the road crossed the 
Drance was really broken down, but that enough remained 
for us to cross on foot, and that from there we must 
walk to Martigny. As we proceeded, almost every 
peasant we met hailed the driver, and animated discussions 
followed, in a harsh patois, wherein we could distinguish 
the frequent recurrence of a pieton," always followed 
by an eager and excited negative, and at length we were 
convinced it was useless to proceed, and unwillingly 

and Orsieres. Near the Hospice, I found a fine specimen of viola 
tricolor. The steep slopes just below the lake, on the Italian side, are 
sprinkled over most beautifully with alchemilla alpina, which I have 
seldom seen elsewhere so large and flourishing. Nearer St. Remy, 
myosotis alpestris is also abundant. 



A HEAVY BILL. 



71 



turned back to Sembranchier, which, we reached, about 
half past seven, tired, cold and hungry. We put up, with 
some fear and trembling, at a very queer village inn, of 
most unpromising exterior, and full of odd passages, doors 
and staircases, where the landlord took a long survey of 
us from an upper window, before admitting us. Once 
within the walls of his house, however, we had no reason 
to complain of a scanty hospitality ; he busied himself 
most energetically in lighting a fire which made us 
appreciate the full force of the comparison between a 
slothful messenger and smoke to the eyes, and prepared 
for us some most excellent coffee, as delicate and well 
flavoured as a Parisian cafe could supply. He assured us 
we need fear no " beasts and to our great surprise we 
found his beds, though hard and furnished with coarse 
home-spun linen, amply justify the character he gave 
of them, and we enjoyed as sweet a night's rest as the 
most luxurious chamber could have given us. 

Next morning, (Saturday, September 18th) we were up 
at five, and after an excellent breakfast, with plenty of 
eggs, asked for our bill. The girl who waited upon us 
appeared never to have heard such a thing ; but after some 
explanation comprehended that we wanted to know how 
much there was to pay, and after a long consultation with 
her master and mistress, reappeared, and asked if we should 
think six francs too much ! We found there would be no 
chance, at present, of passing the Drance by the usual 
road, and were obliged to cross by a substantial stone 
bridge close to Sembranchier, and then, (as there is no 
path, and no possibility of making one's way along the side 
of the river) to mount the shoulder of the range which 



72 



THE FORCLAZ. 



separates the valley of the Drance from that of the 
Rhone, and descend upon Martigny. It was a beautiful 
morning, and all nature looked doubly fresh and bright 
after the two days' rain. An hour or so of very pleasant 
walking, through woods, and over pastures sparkling in 
the early sunshine, brought us to the top, whence we had 
a charming view down the valley of the Ehone to the Lake 
of Geneva, whose blue waters lay sleeping on the distant 
horizon. About St. Maurice, and between that village 
and the cascade of Sallenche, the country was under water 
for miles, and in many places the water stretched from 
side to side of the valley, and must have rendered the 
road utterly impassable. 

About nine o'clock we reached Martigny, and after break- 
fast number two, set off again for Chamouni, uncertain 
whether to go by the Tete Noire or the Col de Balme ; but 
the question was presently decided for us: soon after starting, 
we learned from some guides whom we met, that the Tete 
Noire was impassable, as a bridge had been carried away, 
and in many parts the road itself swept off ; in other parts 
it was flooded, and it was altogether impossible to get to 
Chamouni by that valley. We were accordingly obliged 
to determine on the Col de Balme, though it remained to 
be seen whether we could reach Chamouni that night. In 
ascending the Col de Eorclaz, we saw nothing unusual in 
the appearance of the country ; but every person we spoke 
to had some fresh tale of destruction to tell us. 

It was a brilliant day, with a burning sun and a cloudless 
sky ; and the heat of the Forclaz is well known. In many 
places, little rills of water were bursting up from the ground 
in the middle of the path, and the streams which flowed 



" GIVE, GIVE." 



73 



from them cooled our parched feet, and refreshed us 
pleasantly, as we toiled up the hot and rough pavement 
with which a great part of the ascent is laid. Abundance 
of pears, plums and grapes, were offered to us by the 
children, for which any moderate payment was received with 
astonishment and disgust. The Forclaz is the very head- 
quarters of mendicancy and imposition. Every child is 
taught to beg, almost as soon as it can speak ; and money 
must be the recompense of the commonest courtesies. A 
friend of mine was once toiling up the Forclaz under the 
broiling sun of a hot August noon-day; and, not being 
very well, lay down under some trees by the side of the 
path, almost exhausted. A man of the country passing by, 
he asked how far it was to the top. "Give me some 
money, and I will tell you," was the answer. 

We loitered a few moments at the summit of the 
Forclaz,* to enjoy the lovely view up the rich and smiling 
valley of the Rhone, and then descended into the valley of 
the Trient, where we found the river very much swollen, 
and running in many different channels. Only one bridge 
was left throughout the length of the valley, and by this we 
crossed to the hamlet of Trient. The floods had begun to 
subside, and we saw many spots which, two or three days 
back, had been fertile fields, now nothing but a wearisome 
waste of boulders and mud. The contrast was strange, 
between the angry torrent and the scene of destruction 

* v\pr]\u)V dpkdjv Kopv(pdg ewi 
StvSpoKO/Aovg, 'Iva 
T7]\e<pavtig gkotticlq dcpopwfttOa, 
Kapirovg Tapdofjievav lepdv x^ova, 
Kai 7roTa/jLU)v Z,a9kuv KeXadrj/xara. 

Ar. Nub. 279-83, 

E 



74 



TORRENT OF MUD. 



around, and the deep blue of the quiet, cloudless sky 
which formed our canopy and set off admirably the 
magnificent glacier of Trient, at the end of the 
valley, and the frowning crags and rocky peaks which 
crown it. While we stood gazing on this scene, our 
attention was roused by a sharp cry from the mountain- 
side on our left, and looking up we observed that a torrent 
of mud had suddenly burst forth from above the path we 
had just quitted, and was pouring slowly over a potato- 
field, in which a man had been at work. It came creeping 
irresistibly on, spreading as it descended, and in a few 
minutes the poor fellow's hopes of this year's crop were 
destroyed, and the thick and muddy stream was carrying 
similar devastation over the neighbouring fields. 

About half-past two, after a short halt at Trient, we 
resumed our march, and passing some little distance up 
the course of the stream, soon turned to the right, and 
began a most beautiful climb through well-shaded, moss- 
grown slopes, steep, but very pleasant both to the eye and 
to the feet. We wound through clumps of stately pines, 
and, to descend to smaller objects, walked amongst acres 
of bilberry bushes, laden with dark, ripe fruit, and over 
numbers of beautiful wild flowers. The pretty and delicate 
viola biflora was growing freely here. In several places, 
long stretches of the path had been washed away by the 
recent rains, and we had to clamber over the rocks, and 
make our way as best we could. 

Before long, we turned to the left, and entered a less 
steep, but very barren, tract, where the brown and 
scanty turf was strewn with a profusion of boulders and 
debris, and intersected by many a clear mountain torrent. 



CROIX DE FER ROUGE. 



75 



The view over the Forclaz, towards the Dent de Morcle , 
and the Dent du Midi, was very fine whenever we hap- 
pened to look back. As we neared the top, a long stretch 
of the snowy Alps, from the Diablerets to the Sanetch, 
came in sight. 

"We reached the chalet at the top of the Col de Balme 
about four, and, on looking towards Chamouni, beheld a 
great part of the "valley filled from side to side with a sheet 
of water, which precluded all idea of reaching Chamouni 
that night. So we engaged such beds as the chalet afforded, 
and strolled out to the commanding eminence of the Croix 
de Fer Eouge, from which a better view can be obtained. 
Mont Blanc hid his head in the clouds ; but his great bands 
of guardian aiguilles stood out in bold and sharp relief. 
The wind was keen, but we lay on the ground, and with 
the map made out every peak and glacier in the view, and 
stayed enjoying the magnificence of the prospect, till the 
sun went down behind the Aiguilles Rouges, and the fast- 
fading light warned us to seek our night's shelter. We 
found an Italian gentleman and his wife, who were going 
to sleep at the chalet likewise ; and two English gentlemen 
came in afterwards, so that we were seven in all. There 
were only six beds, two in each room ; but to accommodate 
the Italians, we consented to abandon our claim to the 
second bed-room, and to sleep, all three, in a room about 
eleven feet by six ; a piece of courtesy which the gentle- 
man requited by a deliberate and well-planned attempt 
to deprive us of one of our beds, which it required 
no small determination and perseverance to baflle. 
It- was cold enough, at this height, and in such a 
building as the chalet; but our friend and his wife 

e 2 



76 



BED AND BREAKFAST. 



established themselves in front of the fire, where they 
made an admirable screen ; and it was not until the Signor 
was nearly singed, that he offered to stir, when he frankly 
said he was too hot, and should be glad to change places 
with one of us. 

The fare was tolerable, when we got it ; but the host un- 
mannerly, grudging and churlish, and it was with great dif- 
ficulty that we could procure anything to eat or drink. 
Luckily, in the course of a foraging expedition, I found out 
where the wood was kept ; and we did our best to keep our- 
selves warm. When we retired to bed, however, we found the 
beds and blankets quite wet. We were all obliged to get up 
again, one after the other, and put on, first socks, then trousers, 
lastly coats, and sleep in them as well as we could. We dozed 
uncomfortably till half -past four, when we got up ; and I 
had twice to go a quarter of a mile down the hill to fetch 
water to wash in. We could get none in the house. 

The sunrise was not so fine as we had hoped it would be, 
for heavy banks of cloud lay on the mountains in every 
direction, and threatened a speedy downfall. Early as we 
were, when we came in from our morning walk, we found 
that the others had been beforehand with us in breakfasting, 
and that nothing was left in the house save a sma]l piece of 
bad bread, which we could only manage at all, by toasting 
it thoroughly, " The force of baking could no further go," 
in the way of nastiness. It was black, sour and sodden, 
and there were only three or four mouthfuls apiece for us. 
We started, very hungry, about half past six, and walked 
leisurely down to Le Tour. We could not go fast, as Mr. 
A. had a mule to carry his traps, and we had to accommo- 
date our pace to the tastes of the quadruped. It was a 



DISASTERS. 



77 



nice walk, over soft turf and down a gentle slope, as pleasant 
to the feet as any I know. 

At Le Tour, we heard sad accounts of the ravages of 
the floods, and learned that the bridges, and a good deal of 
the road to Chamouni were carried away, and that we must 
scramble for it. We engaged a man to show us the way, 
and it was not long before we came to the marks of the 
devastating power of the torrent. A quantity of very good 
meadow land, which had stood at least a dozen feet above 
the stream, had been washed bodily away, and was gone — 
and more was threatened. The peasants were hard at 
work, casting in great blocks of stone, to form a break- 
water, and divert the course of the torrent. 

We were shown a place where, yesterday, two houses 
had stood high on the bank; to-day, land, houses, every- 
thing was gone — not a stick or a stone remained to mark 
the spot, over which the swollen waters were raging and 
roaring. A little further, we met about forty men and 
women, dragging a large pine, branches and all, to cast 
into the stream, and stem, if possible, its destructive 
current. We lent a hand, and throwing down our packs 
laid hold of the ropes, and helped with a hearty good- will 
to drag the unwieldy mass some couple of hundred yards, 
up hill, over swampy ground. The labour was harder 
than I should have expected, and I almost wondered they 
could get it along at all. The poor fellows thanked us 
with a simple and touching cordiality, and seemed much 
gratified at this little mark of our sympathy. " Jamais une 
telle chose nous est arrivee," one fine old fellow said, " que 
des voyageurs nous aideraient a notre travail." About a 
half an hour's very rough scrambling was necessary before 



78 



MANLY DEMEANOUR. 



we could reach Argentiere, as a bridge was broken down, 
over a torrent from the right, which we had great difficulty 
in crossing. Here, we found the parsonage had been in great 
danger, and had only been saved by casting large trunks of 
trees into the river, as a kind of rude breakwater, and 
securing them by ropes made fast to the cure's windows. 

I found that an old friend of mine, Matthieu Simond, (not 
he of the Col du Geant) had been a considerable loser ; his 
bakehouse having been carried away. One thing struck us 
very much, the uncomplaining way in which the people all 
spoke of what had happened. There was a simple and manly 
fortitude about almost all, which impressed us very favourably. 
One old gentleman talked to us five minutes before we disco- 
vered that he had lost a large part of his property by the flood. 
" But not so much as many of my neighbours/ 5 he added. 
Nearer Chamouni, we met Zachary Cachat, who told us in 
the same- quiet, unrepining way, that a piece of his land, 
purchased by the savings of several years, was gone. The 
magnitude and suddenness of the general disaster seemed 
to have overpowered the sense of individual calamity. 
Such floods had never occurred within the memory of living 
man, nor, if tradition (generally an accurate guide in such 
matters) could be trusted, for several generations back. 

Below Argentiere, the stream was swollen by the 
drainage of the whole of the great glacier of that name, and 
was consequently wider, deeper and more furious than 
before. The waters, in some places, were nearly a mile in 
width, and stretched from side to side of the valley. 
Groups of tall pines formed dark islands in that troubled 
sea, and here and there the ruins of a house, or a mill, 
visible above the surface of the water, showed what had 



TERRIBLE RAVAGES. 



79 



lately been a human habitation. The waters had risen so 
suddenly, that the inhabitants had had barely time to save 
themselves ; here and there, an article of furniture, or some 
household utensil, left bare by the now receding waters, 
showed how sudden had been that enforced exodus, and 
how fast the rising tide had gained upon the fugitives. 
We had now a most fatiguing scramble, which lasted nearly 
all the way to Chamourri. It was through thick fir woods, 
over masses of debris, among heaps of slippery stones, piled 
in confusion one upon another, across wet meadow lands, 
up to our ancles in water, through brawling mountain 
torrents, and over every species of rough and tiring 
ground. Sometimes, we were close to the river, which 
roared along with fearful power, still rolling huge rocks 
and boulders down its bed ; sometimes, we had to climb 
high, to get round a perpendicular wall of earth, left by 
the ravages of some usually insignificant brook, which had 
now torn away all the grassy slope ; sometimes, to wade 
through, or jump across, a great foaming stream of water ; 
sometimes, to walk along the sides of slippery inclines 
of at least 60°, where it required our best efforts to keep a 
footing. At one spot, we saw the people on the other side 
the stream, sixty or seventy yards off, knee- deep and thigh- 
deep in the freezing water, cutting down a whole wood of 
birch and alder, in order to save, if possible, their land. 
In some places, the stream was running in at least fifty 
different channels, the farthest of which was nearly a mile 
from us. Indeed, the difficulty is, to say what devastation 
had not been committed. Broad sheets of water were 
pointed out to us as the sites of clusters of chalets, which 



80 



FEARS FOR THE BRIDGE. 



had vanished without leaving a trace behind — we saw the 
remains of bridges, which were now far out in the 
middle of the angry flood, and the ruins of every kind of 
building. In other places, furniture and goods had been 
stacked on the wet grass, in spots of comparative safety, 
through fear of impending destruction . One bridge alone — 
that opposite the Hotel Eoyal — at Chamouni, was left stand- 
ing, and for it great fears were entertained, as much of the 
soil on either side had been washed away ; including part 
of the garden of the hotel, and most of its baths. 

We arrived at Chamouni, after five hours' hard work, 
wet, draggled, tired and ravenous ; for we had partaken of 
nothing but that one piece of black bread since seven 
o'clock the night before, and right glad we were to find 
ourselves under the shelter of the excellent Hotel Eoyal, and 
to experience the kind and hospitable attentions of M. Eisen- 
kraemer. Having had a wash and a change of linen, we were 
just in time for the early table d'hote, after which it came on 
to pour again, and rained hard the whole afternoon. We 
had gone up to read and write in our bed-rooms ; but we 
were so tired, that every one of us fell fast asleep, and we 
never woke till nearly six o'clock. More than once during 
the afternoon and evening, the alarm was given that the 
bridge would go ; and, as a measure of precaution, two 
great balks of timber were stretched across the river, just 
above the bridge, to facilitate communication with the other 
side in case of the worst. 

We found that the damage was not confined to the 
valley of Chamouni. For many miles, the road had been 
under water ; and vast quantities of fertile land had, in 



HOW THE DILIGENCE FARED. 81 

many places, been converted into a wilderness of boulders 
and debris. I met, at Chamouni, a friend from England, 
who had just arrived from Geneva, with some ladies. They 
had had a terrible journey of three days. The first day, 
they could get no further than Bonneville, a great part of 
which village was submerged. The next day had been 
entirely consumed in reaching Servoz, where they had had 
to put up with quarters hardly superior to ours of the 
Col de Balme. The waters were often up to the horses' 
bellies; and the conductors of the diligences had to go 
first, on foot, groping their way with long poles, to avoid 
getting off the road into the fields. Sometimes, it had 
been necessary for everybody to walk. Sometimes, the 
diligence was held up by ropes, made fast to the top on 
either hand, and held by parties of men who walked beside 
the carriage. At one place, not far below Chamouni, it 
was impossible to get the carriages through at all ; they 
had to be abandoned, and the passengers were carried 
through a foaming torrent, by men, and transferred to 
chars in waiting for them beyond. Por many days, every 
person who left Chamouni on mule-back, for Martigny, 
had to go over the Col de Balme, and to begin the day 
by mounting to the Flegere, and descending thence to Le 
Tour, as the road from Chamouni to Argentiere no longer 
existed. It was four days later when w r e descended to 
Bonneville and Geneva. The water was then nearly con- 
fined within its ordinary channel ; but we saw, on various 
parts of the route, abundant proofs of the havoc it had 
wrought. Just below St. Martin, a stream which you may 
generally pass over dry-shod had swollen to the dimen- 

e 3 



82 



BONNEVILLE. 



sions of a large river, and, pouring down from the moun- 
tains with irresistible fury, had snapped a whole grove of trees 
short off near the ground, and covered hundreds of acres 
of good land with a layer of large and small stones, many 
inches thick. Lower down, near Cluses, large tracts of 
rich meadow land, by the banks of the stream, had been 
completely buried beneath a thick deposit of mud and 
grit, which was spread as evenly and smoothly as the 
nicest workmanship could have done it. The following 
year, a few blades of grass had forced their way, here and 
there, through the coating of earth; in 1854, there was a 
fair sprinkling of green, but it will probably be some years 
more, before the grass grows freely again, and the land 
resumes the verdant look of former days. At Bonneville, 
the damage seemed to have been very great indeed. Most 
of the town lies low, near the banks of the river, and the 
water marks reached to a height of many feet above the 
ground. The windows of the lower story seemed almost 
all destroyed, and in many houses, a dark line on the wall 
showed that the water had risen as high as the first floor. 
We saw rooms on the ground floor, with a bed of mud 
deposited on the floor, and reaching above the window-sill. 
Below the bridge at Bonneville, the river must have spread 
out to many hundred yards in width ; and the tops of the 
hedges, at some distance from the channel, were full of 
ends of straw, sticks and mud left by the flood. To an 
agricultural community, the damage must have been enor- 
mous. Most of the crops had been got in, but not 
removed from the ground; and, of course, every stack or 
rick was swept away or destroyed. The number of cattle 



RAPID RISE OF THE WATER. 



83 



and sheep drowned was considerable, but not so great as 
might haye been expected, as they are more commonly- 
fattened on the hills and rising grounds, where cultivation 
is more difficult than below. It is a surprising fact, that 
the loss of life was extremely small. In the valley of 
Chamouni, not a single life was lost; nor did we hear 
of any person having been drowned elsewhere. This is 
the more remarkable, when it is considered with what ex- 
treme rapidity the waters rise in such a flood as this. The 
weather had been, for some days, extremely hot, and an 
unusually high temperature had prevailed to the very tops 
of the loftiest mountains. The consequence was, that the 
downfall, which is usually snow at such elevations, was 
now rain, even on the summit of Mont Blanc himself. 
It was observed, after the rains, that so little snow had 
not been seen on the mountains within the memory of 
man. Not only had all the rain which fell over the 
immense area that drains into the Arve found its way to 
the bottom of the valley, but it had been warm enough 
to melt and wash down with itself a vast quantity of snow 
and ice from every glacier ; and the consequent accumu- 
lation, and pressure upon the narrow channel, had been 
prodigious. Even in the little valley of the Wharfe, in 
Yorkshire, it is well known that, during heavy rains on 
the uplands amongst which it takes its origin, the rise of 
the waters lower down the stream is so rapid, that a person 
crossing by the stepping-stones at Bolton Abbey, may find 
the water, which was some inches below him when he 
began to cross, half way up to his knees before he can 
reach the opposite shore. This example may help us 
to realize the effect of some eight-and-forty hours of 



84 



SMALL LOSS OF LIEE. 



unbroken, heavy rain, falling over the whole area of the 
vast system of mountains and glaciers which drain into 
the Arve. The wonder is, not that so much damage was 
done to property, but that so little destruction of human 
life took place. The inundations of 1852 were a truly 
fearful sight, and will long be remembered with awe, not 
only by those with whose substance and hopes they made 
havoc, but by those whose lot it was to witness their 
terrible and destructive results. 



CHAPTER IV. 



THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF CHAMOUNI — EXPEDITION 
BENEATH THE AIGUILLES OF MONT BLANC. 

. . . . Cj TrpofiXrjrtg . . . 
. . . . u) Karappaiyeg 7rkrpai. 

Soph. 



BEAUTIFUL VIEW FROM THE CHARMOZ — EXCURSION FROM THE 
MONTANVERT TO THE GLACIER DES BOSSONS — BAD GUIDES, AND 
DANGEROUS WALK BENEATH THE GLACIERS — WILD MOUNTAIN 
TARN — THE PIERRE L'ECHELLE — GLACIER DES BOSSONS — RAIN 
AND SNOW — THE " REGLEMENTS " AGAIN — NEW GROUND FOR 
EXPLORERS. 

The neighbourhood of Chamoimi has been more com- 
pletely explored than any other district in the Alps ; yet 
some of the most interesting points of view are rarely 
visited. I am greatly surprised that the guides, and others 
interested in adding to the number of the excursions, have 
not made a path to the ridge of rocks, which stretch 
from the base of the Aiguille de Charmoz towards the 
Montanvert, and form the extremity of the western 
bulwark of the Mer de Glace. There would be no 
difficulty in constructing such a path, which might be 
carried for some distance over the pasture grounds above 



86 



THE CHARMOZ. 



the Montanvert, and afterwards across the enormous 
accumulations of massive debris, which have fallen, in 
the course of ages, from the summit of the ridge, and 
lie strewn in wild confusion over thousands of acres : 
suggesting curious speculations as to the original eleva- 
tion of the ridge of which they once were part, and 
which must have been sensibly lowered by the loss of 
material sufficient to form so vast a collection of debris. 
These stones would afford excellent materials for the 
formation of a roadway, practicable for mules ; and the 
heights above offer one of the most striking and unique 
points of view to be found near Chamouni. A kind of 
bird's-eye view of the Mer de Glace is obtained, which 
gives a better idea of its general configuration, and of the 
disposition of the numerous moraines which streak and dot 
its surface, than any other that I know. 

The upper parts of the Aiguilles Yerte, du Dm, and du 
Moine, are far better seen from here than from the Montan- 
vert, and the prospect of the long line of Aiguilles 
which extend from the Charmoz to the Aiguille du Midi, 
with the smaller glaciers of Nantillon, Grepond, Blaitiere, 
and des Pelerins, nestled at their feet, and the great Dome 
de Goute beyond, is at once novel and sublime. INTor was 
I less pleased with the beautiful groups of inferior moun- 
tains to the west, and north-west of Mont Blanc. 

" His subject-mountains their unearthly forms 
Pile around him, ice and rock." 

Many a range of nameless peaks, some snow- clad, some of 
dark precipice and crag, some rich and grassy, rose 



FINE VIEW. 



87 



between me and the distant horizon, presenting a delightful 
variety of outline and colour. At my feet, 

" The wondrous vale 
Of Chamouni stretched far below, * * 
With its dumb cataracts and streams of ice, 
A motionless array of mighty waves." 

It took me between two and three hours to climb to the 
top of the ridge, and make my way back to the Montan- 
vert. I knew that friends were waiting for me below, or I 
should have been tempted to pursue my way along that 
rough and serrated ridge, to the peak of the "Petit 
Charmoz," a lofty point, farther to the south, between 
which and the Aiguille de Charmoz is the Passage de 
FEtala, by which a difficult transit may be effected from the 
Glacier de Charmoz on the west, to that of JNTantillon on 
the east. The Petit Charmoz is at no great distance from 
the point to which I attained, and appeared to me to 
present no serious difficulty to a good climber. Indeed, a 
few days later, I heard that a gentleman, who was staying 
at Chamouni, had scaled it, and found, as might be 
expected, that it commanded a wide and magnificent 
prospect. The much loftier Aiguille de Charmoz, the 
view from the summit of which would be of extraordinary 
sublimity and interest, is probably inaccessible on every side. 

One of the finest excursions near Chamouni, but one 
that is hardly ever taken, lies along the base of the chain 
of Aiguilles which guard the southern frontier of Mont 
Blanc, from the Montanvert to the Glacier des Bossons. 
H. and I made it together on September 21st, 1852, and 
thought it one of the very grandest expeditions we had 



88 



BAD GUIDES. 



ever taken. We had been to the Jardin, the day before, 
and slept at the Montanvert. Next morning, we started 
soon after sunrise, and climbed the grassy slopes above the 
Montanvert, all sparkling with the heavy dew of a sharp 
autumnal morning.* We rounded the extremity of the 
rocky ridge of Charmoz, and ascended on the other side 
towards the base of the Aiguille de Charmoz and the 
Glacier de Nantillon. 

We ought to have pursued this direction till we had 
reached the lateral moraine of the Glacier de -Nantillon, to 
have traversed the narrow space that separates it from the 
Glacier de Blaitiere, and then to have crossed that glacier 
in the same manner ; but we had bad guides, who, as we 
had found the day before, were afraid of any glacier they 
were not familiar with, and unwilling to put themselves to 
the trouble of an additional ascent, in order to be out of the 
way of danger. Despite our remonstrances, they insisted 
upon conducting us by a route full of peril, across the 
vast tract of boulders and debris which cover the whole 
space between the Charmoz and the Glacier des Pelerins. 
I call this route dangerous, because, in passing beneath 
the small Glaciers of Nantillon and Blaitiere, you are 
continually exposed to the fall of rocks and stones, which 
they discharge from their ends and sides. Situated, as 
they are, at the foot of a great chain of bare and precipitous 
heights, they both receive and discharge unusual quan- 
tities of boulders and stones, and it is consequently a 
piece of great imprudence to pass beneath, instead of across 

* We found the beautiful dwarf azalea {a. procumbens) in consi- 
derable abundance and in full flower. It is one of the most beautiful 
of Alpine shrubs. 



WILD TARN. 



89 



them. Not only did we see many marks of these dan- 
gerous missiles, on the granite boulders, whose sharp 
corners were freshly chipped off, in regular lines, one 
below another, by their recent passage, but several were 
discharged above our heads, while we were picking our 
way over the waste of debris, and passed unpleasantly 
near, both before and behind us. These rolling blocks 
are amongst the most formidable clangers of the Alps. 
They descend with a suddenness and velocity which 
make it often difficult to discover their whereabouts till 
they are almost upon you; and even if you are quick 
enough to see them, you cannot be sure of escaping. 
Their track depends in a great measure upon the boulders 
against which they may happen to strike, and it is 
impossible either to calculate their course to a nicety, 
or to move very rapidly out of the way over a mass 
of broken rocks of all shapes and sizes. Prudence 
dictates, and an experienced mountaineer always exercises, 
great caution, when it is necessary to traverse a spot 
exposed to this kind of danger ; and it is always better 
to incur some additional trouble and fatigue, than to risk 
a serious accident by getting into such situations, when 
they can be avoided. 

After passing under the Glacier de Blaitiere, we ascended 
for some distance, and came upon a beautiful mountain 
tarn, full of dark blue water, clear as crystal, cold as ice 
and motionless as marble. 

" A little lake, where never fish leaped up, 
Lay like a spot of ink amid the snow." 

It was very beautiful to see the dark crags of the Aiguille 



90 



THE PIERRE l'eCHELLE. 



de Blaitiere, streaked here and tliere with snow, mirrored in 
its tranquil bosom. Prom this point, we climbed rapidly 
for some time up a great mountain of debris and rock ; and 
pushing westwards came shortly to the Glacier des Pelerins. 
This glacier extends so much lower than the rest, that it 
would be difficult and very laborious to pass beneath it and 
remount along the further side : our guides, therefore, despite 
their dislike of the ice, were obliged to cross it — a matter 
of not the least difficulty, as it is very slightly crevassed. 
Tins brought us to the base of the Aiguille du Midi, where 
a scramble of extreme steepness and some little difficulty 
awaited us before we could reach the Glacier des Bossons, 
which, at a distance of many hundred feet below, streamed 
down towards the vale of Chamouni in a confused cataract 
of torn and jagged fragments of ice. 

We got to the glacier about half- past ten, and sat down 
for a few minutes to take some lunch; after which, we 
mounted again by the side of the glacier, following the track 
ordinarily taken in the ascent of Mont Blanc, and in a few 
minutes reached the Pierre FEchelle, where we found a 
collection of ladders, left by travellers who had made that 
grand and exciting expedition. Our wish was, to cross the 
Glacier des Bossons, and, if possible, to reach the Grands 
Mulets ; and we were surprised to find that our guides, 
generally so reluctant to face the ice, warmly seconded us, 
enlarging upon every topic that could whet our desire to 
visit them. We accordingly entered upon the glacier, whose 
crevasses we found to be on a truly gigantic scale. I think, 
though not really larger, they give one a greater idea of 
vastness and depth than even those of the Col du Geant, 
which are so thick-set, as to lose in appearance something 



WIND, RAIN AND SNOW. 



91 



of their actual magnitude. In this glacier, the intervening 
blocks of ice are more massive, and the crevasses less fre- 
quent. Parts of the passage, however, are difficult enough 
and require considerable care. We saw the crevasses at 
their widest, as it was very near the end of the season, 
which finally broke up a very few days later. 

Some drops of rain had fallen before we arrived at the 
Pierre PEchelle, and by the time we had extricated ourselves 
from the maze of crevasses into which the side of the glacier 
is broken, and had gained the compacter ice in the middle, 
where our progress was more easy and rapid, it came on to 
rain and snow fast, and a huge volume of dense rolling mist 
filled up the lower end of the valley of Chamouni, and was 
slowly advancing, borne upon the west wind, winch blew 
sharply in our faces. It was hopeless and useless to con- 
tinue, in such weather, and much to the regret of ourselves 
and apparently of our guides also, we were compelled to 
turn our backs upon the Grands Mulets, and make the best 
of our way towards Chamouni. We should have found a 
ladder useful enough, in retracing our steps through the 
labyrinth of crevasses, where the ice was rendered very 
slippery by the rain. However, we reached the Pierre 
PEchelle without accident, about half-past twelve, from 
which point all was plain sailing. It was raining very hard, 
and there was no temptation to loiter on the way. I 
imagine no party returning from the summit ever came so 
quickly down the steep and narrow track, dignified by the 
name of the " Chemin du Mont Blanc. " In an hour after 
leaving the glacier, we came to an unoccupied chalet, where 
we took shelter for a quarter of an hour, as there was a 
momentary break in the clouds, and we were loth to finish 



92 



A MYSTERY EXPLAINED. 



our day's work so early. It proved, however, a deceptive 
gleam of light, and there was nothing for it, but to return 
to Chaniouni as fast as we could. We slid for yards 
together over the wet and spongy turf, which was so 
slippery that we rolled over, now one, now another, a dozen 
times in the course of the descent. 

The Cascade des Pelerins was in fine condition after the 
recent rains. * It was the last time I was to see it in its 
glory ; for, during the following autumn, the torrent, being 
swollen by heavy rains, carried away bodily the great 
boulder, which had been lodged in the basin beneath the 
fall, and had caused the water to leap upwards in an 
arch from the basin into which it tumbled ; and thus the 
curious and characteristic aspect of the waterfall was 
destroyed. We reached Chamouni, wet to the skin, at a 
quarter to three, less than two hours and a half after 
quitting the Pierre TEchelle, and had to go to bed while 
our clothes were being dried. 

When we came to settle with our guides, in the evening, 
we learned the secret of their ardent desire to take us to 
the Grands Mulets. They demanded for the day's f< course" 
what we considered an exorbitant sum; and, on our re- 
monstrating, told us we ought to consider ourselves well 
off, as, if we had succeeded in reaching the Grands Mulets, 
we should have had to pay them forty francs a-piece. I 
thought, at the time, this was only idle talk ; but I learned 
subsequently that they could really have enforced the 
demand. The hope of forty francs had overcome the fear 

* It was only three or four days after the great inundations 
which form the subject of the last chapter. 



VALUE OF A GOOD GUIDE. 



93 



of the glaciers; and their importunity was no longer a 
mystery. Of course, it would have been a dishonest pro- 
ceeding on their part, to lead us into such an expense, without 
warning; but Balmat, whom I subsequently consulted, 
appeared to be of opinion that the reglements would have 
borne them out. 

For the passage along the base of the Aiguilles, two 
guides were wholly unnecessary. Indeed, a person tolerably 
familiar with the mountains would have no difficulty in 
finding the way for himself; and it is only a question of 
finding the way. A very moderate degree of sagacity and 
experience would enable him to avoid the only danger 
really attending the expedition; that, namely, which we 
underwent, from the rolling blocks discharged by the 
glaciers. I would much rather take the excursion by 
myself, than with such guides as we had, who were of no 
use, where skill, courage and local knowledge were needed, 
and only served to tire us with their boastful accounts of what 
feats they, their fathers and uncles had achieved, in the ice- 
world, and chasing the chamois. Areally good guide is a com- 
panion of a very different sort, and, even when not possessed 
of the refinement and intelligence of Balmat, can still 
give much useful and interesting information as to the 
surrounding scenes and phenomena, and will often save you 
much, both in time and trouble, by pointing out the route 
which his local experience informs him is the shortest and 
best. In 1852, when H. and I travelled together, and made 
some of the excursions which are recorded in this volume, I 
was comparatively fresh to the higher regions of the Alps, 
as, though I had twice visited Switzerland before, I had not 
deviated much from the beaten track, or often sought the 



94 



NEW GROUND. 



glaciers and the mountain-tops, and, therefore, we were far 
more dependent upon guides, and upon the information of 
interested persons than I have been on subsequent tours ; 
and I did not then know Balmat, (whose acquaintance I 
made in London, a few months later) upon whose high 
character, disinterested kindness, and thorough knowledge 
of the High Alps, I can now always implicitly rely, where 
my own judgment or experience is at fault. 

A great part of the Mont Blanc district has been so 
thoroughly explored, that comparatively few new excursions 
are to be suggested. The glaciers of Argentiere, Le Tour 
and Trient, however, still offer an almost untried field of 
research, and from the ridges to which they lead, where 
practicable, the views over Piedmont must be very magni- 
ficent ; but from the closeness with which they are hemmed 
in by their guardian aiguilles, I doubt if they will ever 
afford as interesting a passage as that of the Col du Geant. 
Professor Porbes crossed the Col which separates the 
Glacier du Tour from that of Salena, in 1850, and gives a 
very interesting account of his journey in a chapter appended 
to his " Norway and its Glaciers but he was beset by 
mists at the summit, and says but little of the distant 
prospect. 

In exploring these glaciers, you have the great advantage 
of tolerable accommodation at the Col de Balme, and thus 
being able to start from a height of seven or eight thousand 
feet. The other extremity of the Mont Blanc range yet 
remains almost terra incognita ; but it would require a 
bold mountaineer to scale the tremendous heights which 
surround the glaciers of Bionnassay and Miage. Balmat 
thinks a passage might be forced across the chain, ascend- 



NEW GROUND, 



95 



ing by the glacier of Bionnassay, and descending into the 
Allee Blanche by that of Miage. It would, undoubtedly, 
be very difficult, but would probably be at least as fine as 
the Col du Geant, and I hope it may some day be 
attempted and achieved. 



CHAPTER Y. 

PASS OF THE ..MONTE MORO. 



IV 'OVTTOTS 

XevKijg xiovog dvelcrav evayelg (SoXaL 

Eurip. 

But yonder comes the powerful king of day, 
Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, 
The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow 
IUum'd with fluid gold, his near approach 
Betoken glad. Thomson. 



LA BURCA — MARMOT FOR SUPPER — A RAINY DAY — MENDING 
STOCKINGS — SUNRISE UPON MONTE ROSA — THE MONTE MORO — A 
GLISSADE — ARRIVAL AT SAAS — REMARKS — BOTANY. 

Having walked over the Simplon,* and passed an 
uncomfortable night at Domo d'Ossola, we started off up 
the beautiful Yal Anzasca, rich with woods, affording a 

* I cannot forbear mentioning how much those persons gain, 
whose inclination or necessities lead them to walk instead of riding, 
over this sublime and beautiful pass. Those who are alive to the 
minuter beauties of nature, and who can bestow an occasional 
thought on the exquisite flora of the Alps, will find a rich treat in 
the luxuriant and varied vegetation which clothes the banks above the 



VAL ANZASCA. 



97 



grateful shelter from the fiery rays of the sun, green with 
grassy slopes, and vocal* with the cheerful music of the 

road, especially on the Italian side. It would be out of place to 
attempt to enumerate here the flora of the Simplon ; but in no other 
place have I seen the true maiden-hair {adiantum capillus veneris) 
growing so freely and beautifully. In places, the banks are purple 
with the delicate cyclamen europaeum. This valley and the Val 
Anzasca reminded me of the Greek poet's beautiful description of a 
rich and flowery valley — 

evQ' 

a Xiyeia fxivvptrai 

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kcll rav dfiarov 6eov 

(pvXXada, fivpioicapTrov, dvrjXiov, 

avrjvenov re ttcivtiov 

* * « 

QctXXsL ovpaviag vtt' dxvag 
b KaXXiBorpvg kclt tjfxap del 
vdpKiGffoe, fxeydXaiv Qealv 
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XPvaavyriQ icpoicog' ovS'. dvitvoi 
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dXX' aliv £7r' r\\iari 

OiKVTOKOQ 7Ts8'hi)V €7T IV l(T 0 £7 Ctl 

a/CT/pary %vv bfifipip 
arepvouxov xOovog. 

Soph. (Ed. Col. 670-691. 

* ovd' av Oepfxr) Ttviyovg rjfJtdg 
d.KTig Tt]Xavyrjg QdXicei' 
dXX' dvQrjpibv Xtifxwvitiv 
(pvXXiov iv KoXnoig va'iu), 
i]v'iK dv 6 Qeairkaiog b^v fikXog dyj-rag 
QdXiteai iieormfipivolg riXio[xavrig ?> .j3od~. 

Ak. Av. 1091-6. 



98 



MARMOT AND CHAMOIS. 



cicada and the grasshopper, and arrived, after a long and 
sultry day, on the evening of September 5th, 1852, at the 
little inn on La Burca, half-an-hour's walk below Macug- 
naga. It was then — I believe it has been modernized lately 
— a little, old-fashioned cottage, with a public room on one 
side of the doorway, and on the other an apartment which 
served the family, of three men and three or four women 
and a stray child or two, " for parlour and kitchen and 
all," and one or two bed-rooms in the low 3 sloping 
thatched roof, to which you climbed by a sort of ladder. 
What became of the numerous family at night passed our 
skill to discover. Homely in the extreme, the place had 
yet an air of cheerfulness and comfort, which made us 
very glad to put up there for the night, and we were still 
better pleased to find the testimony in the travellers' book 
uniform and hearty as to the care, attention and kindness 
of the host, the cleanliness of the beds, and the excellence 
of the cuisine. It turned out that " I Cacciatori del Monte 
Rosa" was kept by two brothers, one of whom was a crack 
hunter,* and the other an accomplished cook — a most 
promising association. We found a marmot hanging in the 
larder, and with some difficulty prevailed on the brothers 
to let us have him cooked for supper. They spoke of it 
rather slightingly as " comme cela," " pour les chasseurs 
pas mauvais," and so forth, but seemed to think it not good 
enough to offer to travellers. However, it came up most 
delicately cooked, and was unanimously voted excellent ; 
and it was followed by real chamois, and coffee as good as 

* The mountains opposite to La Burca abound in game. He told 
us he had once killed there four chamois in an hour. 



A TRIAL. 



99 



could be had in Paris, and by that rare luxury in the Alps, 
good bread and sweet butter. 

The next day, we were to have been off at four or five 
o'clock, to cross the Monte Moro ; but it poured all the night 
long, and when we rose at seven, the rain was still coming 
down hopelessly, and we had nothing for it but to make 
ourselves as happy as we could in-doors for the day. We 
had not a book amongst us, nor was there one in the 
house ;* so that it was rather a severe test. All the 
journals were brought down to the most recent date, and 
the proceedings of yesterday described with unusual mi- 
nuteness. Then we had long chats with the host, who 
spoke a strange patois, which seemed like broken Trench 
and Italian, chiefly about the weather and the chase, in 
which we were joined by a very intelligent Italian gentle- 
man, who had come up with a fine dog from the 
shores of the Lago Maggiore, to hunt the chamois. He 
had been the proprietor of a large estate near Milan ; but 
being active in the events of 1848, was one of those who 

* Not even the "Musee des Families," a French illustrated 
magazine, which they had lent me a few days before at Sonceboz, 
where I was kept to the house for some days by a blistered heel. 
In this veracious publication, were a set of papers entitled, " Les 
Anglais cliez eux," from which I learned not a few facts about my 
native land and my countrymen, of which I was ignorant before : 
for instance, that Cremorne was a great place of resort for Evan- 
gelical clergymen, and for substantial shopkeepers ; that the way 
from Portland Place to Kensington Gardens lies through Devonshire ; 
and that Coventry is in the immediate vicinity of the Hay market. 
I have only to add, that the editor assures his readers, that the 
accuracy of the information contained in these papers may be impli- 
citly relied upon. 

F 2 



100 



a chef-d'ceuvre. 



were excepted from the general amnesty which followed 
the suppression of the outbreak, and was, consequently, 
an exile from his home and country, towards which 
he yearned with all the proverbial ardour of an 
exile's longing. Then we had a protracted chaffer for a 
magnificent specimen of iron pyrites, from the mines of 
Pest arena, which one of our party hankered after sadly, 
but could not screw Iris courage up to forty francs, which 
was the lowest price our host would take. After this, my 
companions were very hard up for employment, and, 
therefore, paid great attention to the cuisine ; the remain- 
ing half of the marmot was grilled for dinner under their 
inspection; and they assured themselves of the genuine- 
ness of the chamois, by an examination of the skin, which 
had been but very recently taken off. They would, I have 
no doubt, have given a good deal for some large holes in 
their stockings, such as gave me employment, for some 
hours, in darning them. The ladies affected to make very 
light of the achievement, when I returned home, and 
found several technical flaws in my work ; but we all con- 
sidered them chefs-d'oeuvre ; and I know that my darning 
stood the test of a month's hard work afterwards. 

I had been making a collection of wild flowers, as I passed 
through the country ; and the arrangement and securing 
of those which were lying loose among the pages of my 
book afforded occupation for an hour or two more. It 
was very amusing to notice the interest and curiosity which 
this proceeding always excited, especially with the women. 
Each of the three who belonged to ' I Cacciatori/ came in 
turn, and at length all came together, and brought a little 
girl with them, to watch what was going on ; and the 



CLEARING UP. 



101 



child was carefully put in a good place, as would be done 
at a show. At Yanzone, where we dined the day before, I 
was occupying a few spare moments in this way, when the 
woman of the inn, after expressing considerable admiration, 
went out, and brought me several large dahlias. "Finding 
them too large for my pocket-book, she went again, and 
brought me some rue, camomile, fennel and several other 
garden herbs, that I might add them to my collection; and 
in order to avoid giving her bitter disappointment, I was 
obliged to carry them with me, till I got out of sight of the 
house. 

About six o'clock in the evening, the heavy rain ceased, 
and the clouds began to clear away; and soon we had 
glimpses of the nearer peaks, and then of the glaciers of 
Monte Eosa, at the upper end of the valley; and as the 
sunlight faded away, the stars began to sparkle in the sky, 
the wind set in from the north, blowing very cold, and we 
were informed that there was every prospect of a fine day for 
the morrow. We, therefore, went early to bed, where we 
soon forgot the ennui of the day, and made the best use of 
our time, till half past three next morning, when we awoke 
to find our hopes realized, and the stars shining brilliantly in 
a clear and frosty sky. We made a hasty toilette and an 
excellent breakfast, which our untiring landlord prepared 
with a care and delicacy that smacked little of an hour 
before daybreak. 

When we started, a little before five, the grey tints of 
early dawn were upon the mountain tops, whose outline 
seemed rather to fade away into the cold blue sky, than to 
be chiselled out in sharp relief against it. In the east, 



102 



SUN-RISE UPON MONTE ROSA. 



however, the sky was already of the pale yellowish grey 
which marks the approaching sunrise. The view up the 
valley, towards Monte Rosa, was of great magnificence. 
On our left, was a dark mountain of no great height, clad 
with wood half way up, with a rocky peak above ; but 
beyond that lay the glaciers and snows, the crags and 
precipices of Monte Rosa, gradually coming more and 
more completely into sight, as we drew nearer to the head 
of the valley.'* Immediately in front was the steep and 
dangerous passage of the "Weiss Thor, whose highest part 
could not be less than six or seven thousand feet above us ; 
to the right of which is a lofty and rugged peak, called the 
Cima de Jazzi, communicating directly with another called 
the Rothhorn ; just below and to the right of which, was the 
pass of the Monte Moro, towards which we were about to 
ascend. 

The new snow had fallen on the mountains, and the vast 
basin of the Monte Rosa chain lay before us, clothed in 
flowing robes of the most pure and spotless snow ; while 
every little nook and ledge and inequality of rock, on which 
the snow could rest, was covered with the same virgin 
white; so that it looked as if the sides of the craggy 
mountains were flecked and dashed with spray, and as if 
myriads of foaming torrents were coursing down the preci- 
pices, streaking the surface with their white tracks in every 
direction. I have never, before or since, seen masses of 
crag so beautifully variegated by the snow as these were. 
After we turned to the right, and began the ascent, the 

* The actual summit of Monte Rosa does not become visible till 
some little time after leaving La Burca. 



MONTE MORO. 



103 



light became stronger, and the outline sharper, and our 
view of the vast glacier basin more uninterrupted and 
clear. The valley of Macugnaga goes very far into the 
heart of the mountain, so that all the snowy part of Monte 
Rosa rises in one great mass directly above it. For two 
or three minutes — not more — all the upper part of this 
vast region of snow was dyed of the deepest crimson, (not 
pink, as an evening view of the Alps often is) ; then, for 
much longer, it was of the most brilliant gold — just the 
colour of a new sovereign — and then, as the sun over- 
topped the lower mountains, and their shadows were no 
longer thrown upwards, this gorgeous colouring gave place 
to a dazzling glare. Miles off as we were, we could hardly 
look at the snowy basin without blinking. 

The ascent of the Monte Moro, on this side, is particu- 
larly steep ; but it presents neither difficulty nor danger ; 
and if you once get an accurate idea of where you are to 
cross the chain, there would be no difficulty in finding the 
way without a guide. It was once a mule track, and every 
here and there, you come upon bits of the old paving ; but, 
generally, it is a rough climb ; often, like going up stairs ; 
and you continually encounter small sloping faces of rock, 
very smooth and slippery, which protrude from the turf, and 
over which a little care is needed. The pasturages are rich ; 
the vegetation luxuriant, and the bilberries singularly fine 
— some are quite as large as small grapes. The cloudberry 
(rubus chamcemorus) is also found ; its juicy red berries are a 
welcome refreshment on a hot day. These fruits and the 
berries of the juniper, afford excellent food for the pheasant, 
the grouse and the black cock, which are abundant here, as 
well as hares, ptarmigan and white partridges. As we as- 



104 



A GLISSADE. 



cended higher, the track became a mere scramble over blocks 
of stone of all shapes and sizes, till, abont half-past eight, 
we arrived at the snow, which lies in a great, steep, smooth 
slope, hanging like a curtain from the summit of the pass. 
It is not till you get very nearly to the edge of the snow, 
that you see exactly where you are to cross ; which renders 
it desirable to get a good notion of the direction, before 
beginning the ascent. Some five-and-twenty minutes of 
very laborious climbing, up to our knees in snow, with 
an occasional slip and tumble, brought us to the top of 
the ridge. The mists had risen from the valleys, and shut 
out most of Monte Rosa, and prevented our seeing far in 
any direction ; but the smooth sheets of snow stretching 
down from every height near us, and scarcely broken by 
a crevasse or a rock, were very beautiful indeed. Twenty 
minutes of descent brought us to a steep bank of hard 
snow, terminating at the foot of a fine glacier on our 
right, slightly marked by a series of concentric curved 
crevasses. Here we all set off for a glissade, in the course 
of which one of us had a trip, and executed the manoeuvre 
described by Mr. Albert Smith as not uncommon under 
similar circumstances, ending in a long roll; whereupon, 
another consulted safety rather than elegance, by squatting 
down, with his alpenstock between his legs, and accom- 
plishing the descent in that fashion, presenting an appear- 
ance which reminded one of an impaled frog. 

A gentle descent, by a rough path, for about an hour and 
half, passing two fine glaciers^ on the left, and across the 

* One of these has evidently stretched, at some time, quite across 
the valley, as the Allelein glacier does, lower down. The largest 
mass it has brought down is a gigantic block of serpentine, sixty or 



ALLELEIN GLACIER. 



105 



Distel Alp pastures (following the course of the stream, 
which issues from the glacier not far from where our 
glissade ended) brought us to a lake, a mile and a 
half long, called the Mattmarksee, caused by the descent 
of the Allelein glacier, which comes pouring down from 
the left, and completely chokes up the valley of Saas for 
nearly a mile more. The stream burrows a subglacial 
course for all this distance, and issues forth again at the 
foot of the Allelein glacier.* We climbed up this glacier 
a little way, and looked down some huge dark blue and 
green crevasses. The scene is one of singular sterility, 
whichever way one looks — brown and barren crags on 
every hand, surmounted by great glaciers, leave room for 
only a narrow strip of pasture ground, clothed with a 
scanty and stunted herbage. 

Having passed the glacier, we continued to descend by a 
rugged and uncomfortable path, for a considerable distance, 
till the valley opened out to three or four times its usual 
breadth ; and before us, in a little plain, less than a mile wide, 
but of very rich and productive pasture ground, lay the se- 
cluded village of Saas. Here we sought the Hotel du Mont 
Rose, the residence of the cure of Saas, a famous mountaineer, 
to whom, as I shall have occasion to mention hereafter, I 

seventy feet high, which it has deposited on the right of the stream. 
Probably the valley was once blocked up by this glacier, as it still 
is by the Allelein ; for the valley is here wider than usual, and 
there is a little plain, above where the glacier must have crossed 
the valley, probably composed of the alluvial deposits of the 
stream. 

* I shall have occasion to mention some facts relating to this 
glacier in a later chapter. 

p 3 



106 



THE MONTE MORO. 



am indebted for some of the grandest excursions I have 
ever taken. 

The Monte Moro may in strictness be called a glacier 
pass ; but it does not at all answer to what we generally 
think of as such ; for it is remarkably easy, and the passage 
over the glacier does not occupy more than three quarters 
of an hour, and is practicable at almost ail seasons, and in 
almost all weathers. Nevertheless, the scenery, especially on 
the Italian side, is of extraordinary beauty and grandeur, and 
it is justly becoming every year a more and more favourite 
excursion. It is seen to the best advantage, in crossing from 
Saas, as you then have the glorious view of Monte Rosa in 
front of you, during the greater part of the descent. Great 
efforts are being made to re-construct, and render available, 
the ancient pathway, and at the close of the last season, 
it was expected that in the present year it would be prac- 
ticable for mules, all the way. If this be effected — and 
there is no reason why it should not be effected — there 
will be nothing to prevent ladies from making the pass. 
At present, only those of the fair sex who do not mind 
a good deal of rough work, and can stand considerable 
fatigue, have been able to enjoy the beauties of this most 
attractive pass. The accommodation, also, in the valleys 
of Saas and Anzasca, has been gradually improving for 
some years. I have paid visits to Saas in three suc- 
cessive years, 1852-3-4, and observed a most marked im- 
provement, each year over the last, and I believe the 
progression was carried on last year — so that, after the 
mule-track is put into repair, there will be nothing to 
prevent thousands from crossing the Monte Moro, who, 
three or four years back, could not have thought of it. 



FLOWERS. 



107 



The journey may be performed easily in ten hours ; it took 
us less — and we loitered very much during the latter half 
of bur journey, looking about us, searching for flowers 
and the like. 

In the Yal Anzasca, we found many specimens of the 
frail impatiens noli me tangere, a plant which I have but 
rarely met with in the Swiss valleys. The class of plants 
found here, indicated a much warmer climate than in the 
northern valleys of the High Alps, and were much the 
same as those we had seen in the valley of the Bhone, e.g. 
cyclamen, dianthus Cartkusianorum, cytisus nigricans, 
colchicum. Higher up, soon after leaving La Burca, we 
found senecio incanus, Linn., (Jacolcea alpina pumila, 
Bocc.) and dianthus Monspessulanus (Montpelier pink), 
and, near the top of the pass, the beautiful waving agrostis 
vivipara, one of the most graceful of mountain grasses, 
silene acaulis, (stemless fly-catcher), sempervivum arach- 
noideum, and, of course, great quantities of salix her- 
bacea, the food of the chamois in these elevated re- 
gions ; and, lastly, the ranunculus glacialis, blooming on 
the very confines of eternal snow. On the Swiss side of 
the pass, we found little to attract attention till we had 
nearly reached the Mattmarksee. Some of the flowers of 
the valley of Saas will be noticed in the following chapter. 



CHAPTER VI. 



THE VALLEY OF SAAS AND THE VALLEY OF FEE. 

A little lowly vale, 
A lowly vale, and yet uplifted high 
Among the mountains ; 

* * * * 

* * Full many a spot 

Of hidden beauty have I chanced to copy, 
Among the mountains ; never one like this ; 
So lonesome and so perfectly secure ; 
Not melancholy — no, for it is green, 
And bright and fertile ; furnished in itself 
With the few needful things that life requires. 
In rugged arms how softly does it lie ! 
How tenderly protected ! 

WORDSWORTH. 



FROM VISP TO STALDEN — SUDDEN ARRIVAL OF AUTUMN — 

BUTTERFLIES — SOUR BREAD AND GARLIC STALDEN TO SAAS 

CHANGE OF CLIMATE — AVALANCHES AND ASSASSINS — SAAS 

THE INN — A MODEL KITCHEN — THE CURE — VALLEY OF FEE 

— ANNUAL FETE — A " STRAPPING WOMAN " FEE-GLETSCHER- 

ALP — ADVANCE OF THE GLACIERS — FLORA OF THE FEE-ALP 

LA TETE — GLACIER OF FEE — ANCIENT GLACIERS — THE BALFRIN 

CROSSING THE BIDER GLACIER UNDER DIFFICULTIES 

DANGEROUS DESCENT — THE ALLELEIN GLACIER. 

The valley of Saas is one of the most beautiful in the 
Alps ; but until very lately has been scarcely known to the 



FROM VISP TO STALDEN. 



109 



mass of Swiss travellers. It extends nearly due south, 
from Yisp in the valley of the Ehone to the foot of the 
Monte Moro pass, a distance of about nine or ten hours 5 
walk. At Stalden, about two hours' walk above Yisp, the 
valley forks off into two branches ; or rather, two valleys, 
that of St. Nicholas on the right, and that of Saas on the 
left, unite, and pour their streams into the same channel. 
The torrent in each valley bears the name of the Yisp ; but 
that which issues from the valley on the right, is called the 
Gorner Yisp, from the great glacier of that name at wdiose 
foot it takes its rise, while the stream which flows down 
the valley on the left is called, from the principal village in 
the valley, the Saaser Yisp. 

Prom the town of Yisp to Stalden, the road rises very 
gently along the right bank of the Yisp stream, which it 
crosses, about an hour from Yisp, by a curious high- 
pitched bridge of great antiquity, and consisting of a single 
semi-circular arch. The valley is wide on the eastern side, 
though kept within narrow bounds by the mountain ridge 
on the left bank of the stream. It is, like the valley of the 
Ehone, rich in vines, apples, pears, plums and all manner 
of fruits ; the vineyards, especially, extending to a great 
height up the mountain sides, and being elaborately terraced 
on the steepest slopes. Close to Yisp, on the western side 
of the valley, some of the vineyards are carried up to an 
astonishing height, and are said to produce a very choice 
wine. I have never passed through Yisp at the wine- 
drinking period of the day, and have, therefore, never 
tested its quality ; and, indeed, if it be very good, the 
probability is, that it would be taken to Sion, or some 
other place in the more populous part of the valley of the 



110 



AN INSIDIOUS WINE. 



Ehone. Near Stalden, a grape is grown which yields a 
peculiarly strong and luscious wine. Indeed, I know few 
continental wines which possess equal strength. It is a 
light-coloured wine with what the guides call " un gout de 
Muscat;" but it is very insidious, and I have known 
several instances of persons, who had not been cautioned as 
to its strength, drinking it freely, as they might safely 
drink most of the Swiss wines, and being completely over- 
come by it. 

In the height of the season, the profusion of wild flowers 
mast be something wonderful. I have never passed 
through this part of the valley earlier than quite the end of 
August, when by far the greater part of the flowers were in 
seed ; but, even then, there were enough to make the valley 
look very gay in places : below Stalden, they were much 
the same as we found in the valley of the Ehone. A few 
clays, at this time of the year, make a wonderful difference 
in the aspect of vegetation. In 1853, I walked from 
Yisp to Stalden, on the 27th of August, and from Stalden 
to Yisp, on the 1st of September, and the difference was 
most marked. Many of the trees which had seemed in 
pretty full leaf on the Saturday, were almost stripped, by 
the Thursday. In descending the valley, the fallen leaves 
rustled under our feet, as they would in November, in 
England, and the wild flowers had all but disappeared. 
The early fall of the leaves in these hot valleys strikes the 
traveller as much as any of their autumnal characteristics. 
I walked from Piedimulera to La Burca, up the luxuriant 
and sultry Val Anzasca, on the 5th of September, 1852. 
It is the richest valley I ever saw ; but also one of the 
hottest ; we were glad to build about our caps thick shades 



BUTTERFLIES. 



Ill 



of chesnut leaves and ferns; but some of the trees were as 
bare as they would be two or three months later, at home. 
Indeed, I have seen the trees in far fuller leaf in December, 
at Malvern, than they were, here, in September. The heat, 
all the while, was almost tropical. 

The valley of the Yisp presents every sign of a hot 
climate ; lizards running on the stones and walls ; and 
butterflies fluttering about in great numbers. The grass- 
hoppers, chiefly of the winged kind, make the whole air 
vocal with their shrill and cheerful chirrup. In August, 
1853, I saw few but the red-winged variety. I have, 
however, on other occasions, seen hundreds of a different 
colour, both blue and brown. The commonest butterfly was 
the little pale blue one ; but there were some larger yellow 
butterflies, of a delicate hue and exquisite beauty. The 
Apollo is likewise plentiful, and attains an unusual size. 
Tew of the less rare kinds equal the Apollo in brilliancy 
and beauty. One, however, that we saw in 1853, was the 
finest insect of his tribe I ever saw alive. He was full 
four inches across, of a very rich dark brown, delicately 
blended with a lighter brown, soft and velvety, spotted 
with black, and fringed with a broad band of deep black, 
and then a narrow band of light brown. His wings at ere 
deeply serrated and indented. I never felt my destructive 
propensities so strong, 'and the animal certainly would not 
have rested so quietly, while I was looking at him, if he had 
known the struggle that was going on within me. But I was 
ashamed, for the gratification of a mere fancy, and having 
no scientific interest to serve, to mar so beautiful a creature. 

At Stalden, there is a little inn, where a tolerable lunch 
may sometimes be obtained. The wine, as has been said, 



112 



GAIILIC. 



is very good ; in fact, it proves now and then too good ; 
cheese may also generally be had of a pretty good quality, 
and the honey is excellent. The bread is not to be relied 
upon; I have eaten good, wholesome bread at Stalden, 
but it is generally very acid. A very few years back, the 
difficulty of meeting with any tolerably wholesome food 
in these valleys was a most serious drawback to the 
pleasure of visiting them.* The bread was almost 
uniformly sour (it is still very often so), the cooking in- 
famous, so that what might have been a wholesome 
stew or roast, came up oily, reeking with garlic, and 
other abominations ; and, in fact, it was very difficult to 
know where to turn for a meal that could be eaten with 
impunity, even among the mountains. I shall have occasion 
to mention the style of cooking more particularly, when 
I come to speak of Saas. Things are rapidly mending 
in this respect, but in 1854 there was still much room for 
improvement ; and the extent to which garlic was used, 
in the preparation of all sorts of food, can hardly be con- 
ceived by the uninitiated. I imagine they must have fed 
their fowls upon the noisome herb; for I have found 

* I have known many persons made thoroughly unwell, after two 
or three days in the valley of Saas, by the sour bread and unwhole- 
some diet. The friend who was with me in 1853 knocked up at 
the foot of the Allelein glacier, in consequence of the bad food, and 
the same cause brought on a serious attack of illness, in the case of 
my wife, the next year. I have been told by a friend, that an 
East Indian officer he met in Switzerland informed him that it was 
the practice in India, in such a case, to cut the bread in slices, soak 
it for a few minutes in milk, and then rebake or toast it ; and that 
this process, to a great extent, corrected the acidity. My friend 
tried the suggestion, and found it answer. 



FROM STALDEN TO SAAS. 



113 



even the boiled eggs taste of garlic, at Stalden. Nothing 
was commoner than for everything with which garlic was 
not purposely mixed by the cook, to have been cut with a 
garlicky knife. I have often found the slices of bread at 
Saas quite uneatable from this odious practice; and the 
natives are so much in the habit of eating garlic, on every 
possible occasion, that they are quite unable to understand 
that it can be disagreeable to a traveller. These valleys, 
however, are becoming so much more visited than they 
were a few years ago, that I have little doubt that, before 
long, all these little discomforts will have been remedied. 
Already, at Zermatt, you may live almost as well as at 
Chamouni ; and I have been told that, last year, there was 
little to complain of, at Saas. 

After quitting Stalden, to ascend the valley of Saas, you 
leave the valley of St. Nicholas, and the path which leads 
to Zermatt, on your right, and cross a fine bridge over the 
Gorner Visp, which thunders through a narrow, rocky chan- 
nel, some two hundred feet below, and enter upon a much 
wilder and more contracted valley. The path is carried 
at a considerable height above the stream, along the side of 
the steep and lofty range of mountains which forms the 
western boundary of the valley of Saas. In the afternoon of 
a sultry day, the change is most grateful, from the exposed 
and sultry valley below, to the welcome shade afforded by 
this gigantic barrier. It is curious to notice the rapid 
change, both in animal and vegetable life, which shows at 
once that the conditions of climate are totally different 
here and a few miles below. The flies cease to plague you 
and to torment the mules ; the butterflies and moths are few 
and far between ; the grasshopper is not rattling forth his 



114 



WILD SCENERY. 



cheerful note from every tree and blade of grass. The 
herbage is greener and fresher — the pasturage excellent ; 
many of the wild flowers are still luxuriant and beautiful, 
but, both in number and in variety, they fall far short of 
what we have seen below * It is a moist valley, evidently, for 
the cotton-grass (eriophorum capitatum), and the parnassia 
palustries are growing everywhere with remarkable richness 
and profusion.t There are still a few cherry trees, and 
here and there a walnut tree ; but they soon give way to 
the larch, the fir and the pine.f The size of the larch in 
the valley of Saas is remarkable. 

The walk from Stalden to Saas occupies about four 
hours, and is one of the most beautiful I know. The 
scenery is all close, being confined to the sides of the 
valley ; but these are very fine. They are steep and 
precipitous, especially on the eastern side ; and the river 
runs through a channel, which, for a great distance, is 
nothing but a cleft in the rock, of considerable depth, arch- 
ing upwards, as if its two sides would meet, and generally 
marked with great black ribs, the stains of dripping water 
and vegetable overgrowth, which assume an extraordinary 
appearance of regularity, looking, in many places, like 

* The plants of a colder climate begin to show themselves. The 
prevalent varieties of common plants are the Alpine ones ; e. g., 
linaria alpina and trifolmm alpimm. The hardier kinds of gentian 
and myosotis appear ; campanula glomerata is found, and above 
Saas, saxifraga crustata, sempenimm araclinoideum and silene 
acaulis. 

t evFpocrovQ yrjg tq—ovq 

£X STS > ^£i/*wi'a r tpokvra. 

X Many of the trees of this class are beautifully fringed with the 
parisitic lichen pinastri. 



AVALANCHES AND MURDERERS. 



115 



courses of masonry. The mountains rise to a great height, 
on either side, and there is so agreeable a variety of bare 
grey, and light brown rock, of rich green grass, of moss- 
grown crags and of steep slopes dotted with fir and larch 
and pine, that some new scene of beauty is presented at 
every turn of the path. The rocks are chiefly of gneiss, 
with bands of steatite, and, lower down, some, limestone ; 
but the latter rock is not abundant. As you get. higher 
up the valley, it is even more wild and beautiful, for a vast 
collection of boulders, now clothed with lichen, moss, and 
turf, have been rolled down by the stream, or have tumbled 
from the mountain side, amongst which the path grace- 
fully winds its sinuous way. 

It is a dangerous valley in winter, for the sides of the 
mountains are steep enough to give rise to frequent 
avalanches ; and many a cross by the side of the track 
marks the spot where some unhappy wayfarer, in attempting 
to pass from one part of the valley to another, has met 
his death, and found a grave beneath the snow. [Not a 
few of these humble monuments are said to commemorate 
a still darker and more tragic fate ; for, in former days, 
these valleys had an evil reputation, and are said to have 
been inhabited by a treacherous and ferocious race, who 
could, on occasion, ply the trade of the assassin, as well 
as tend sheep on the mountains; and the guides are 
apt to say, whether truly or not, that in those days, the 
knife of the murderer was not unfrequentiy as deadly as 
the fall of the avalanche. Such a state of things, if it 
ever existed, has long since passed away : and the present 
inhabitants, though grossly ignorant, are a kind and simple 



116 



SAAS. 



race, generous and affectionate, rather than cowardly and 
cruel. 

In one place, the valley widens, and a village is situated 
in a little plain, of exquisite loveliness, carpeted with 
herbage of the darkest and richest green. Then you pass, 
for nearly another hour, through a thick wood of firs and 
larches, through the openings in which you have an 
excellent view of a glacier which hangs far down the oppo- 
site side of the valley, and, at length, emerge upon another, 
broader and longer, plain, at the upper end of which the tower 
of the church of Saas sparkles in the sunlight; and be- 
hind are seen some fine snow-clad mountains, which lie 
between the valley of Saas and the Simplon ; and to the 
right of these, a long range of crags, their heads just 
powdered with snow, which form the southern boundary 
of the rich little valley of Pee. 

The village of Saas used formerly to boast two inns ; 
but of late years, the Hotel du Mont Rose has nearly 
monopolized the traffic; and when I was last there, in 
1854, the rival house had ceased to exist. I believe there 
is a new inn building, or built, higher up the valley, but 
I have heard little more than the fact. At the Hotel du 
Mont Eose resides the cure, Herr Johann Imseng, (a 
notable personage in these parts) who, in fact, acts as 
host. He knows the mountains of the district better 
than any man in the valley ; and, although far on the 
wrong side of sixty, can still walk for four-and-twenty 
hours at a stretch, and make light of the achievement. 
There is no inn I know, in which so great an improvement 
has taken place in a short time, as in the Hotel du Mont 



THE FLEAS. 



117 



Rose. When I first went there, in 1852, the fleas were 
intolerable. Their size, and the fierceness of their appe- 
tite, exceeded anything of the kind I ever knew; and 
when a cold or wet day drove one near the fire, their 
attacks became unendurable; and there was nothing for 
it, but to retire, and have a grand hunt, when we always 
found. In 1S53 and 1854, I observed a great and 
successive diminution in their numbers ; and a friend, who 
was there with his wife, last year, told me there were none. 
The cuisine is likewise greatly improved, though, on my 
last visit, in 1854, the only day that we escaped the 
plague of garlic was a day when they apologised for the 
absence of the cook, who was gone to act as guide over 
the mountains. We found great cause to rue his safe 
return. But I am told, the change for the better in this 
respect was considerable, last year. In 1852, we found 
that they had never heard of an " omelette aux confitures." 
We attempted to teach them how to make one, and got 
an ingenious compound between bad batter pudding and 
apple fritters. They have since learned how to manufac- 
ture very tolerable omelettes. The cooking and all the 
arrangements are far cleaner than they were — as they well 
needed to be. During my first visit, we spent a very wet 
afternoon in the kitchen, for the sake of the fire. There 
was no grate, or kitchen range, but the fire was heaped 
on a brick settle in the corner; and the chimney was 
a sort of wooden funnel above, which of course smoked 
fearfully. Damp wood formed the staple fuel; and the 
consequence was, that nearly everything which was boiled 
over the fire, had a taste of smoke. The tea and coffee 
were always highly smoked. At one end of the kitchen, 



118 



A MODEL KITCHEN. 



were a lot of bits of wood for the fire, piled up. By this 
heap, was a sort of sink, on which were broken egg-shells, 
wash-hand basons, jugs, offal, plates, bread, sugar, cheese, 
knives, forks, dishes, remnants of soup, scraps of meat, 
unwashed crocks of all sorts ; then in the window-sill, 
which was very small and dirty, were some joints of 
scraggy mutton, lying in all the dirt, cheek by jowl with 
filthy rags and cloths ; on the table was a confused mass of 
provisions, cooked and uncooked, dishes, plates, cups and 
saucers, eggs, a large lump of butter, a can of milk, a 
lot of dirty knives and forks, and the Lord knows what 
besides. Everything else was in the same style ; and, 
wherever you went, you seemed to have excited the voracity 
of a fresh legion of fleas. I am bound to say all this 
has been greatly changed ; and, in fact, nothing of the 
sort is to be feared at present, or I should have been 
loath to mention it, as I am under considerable obligations 
to the cure ; but the description here given is literally true ; 
it was written on the spot, and I have transcribed 
it verbatim from my journal. There is one redeeming 
point in the bill of fare — you often get genuine and very 
excellent chamois ; otherwise, the only meat is mutton, 
which is almost always small, tough, lean and stringy. 
It is only killed for travellers ; the people of the place 
never indulge in meat ; and, consequently, when a sheep 
is killed, the wayfaring public have to eat him all up, 
before another is despatched. On arriving at Saas, about 
seven in the evening, in 1853, we asked for some meat 
with our suppers. It was readily promised, but was long 
in forthcoming ; and the cure at length came in with an 
apology, saying that the man was gone to kill a sheep for 



KILLING THE FATTED SHEEP. 



119 



us, and we should not be kept waiting much longer. 
Anywhere but in Switzerland, the announcement would 
have had a de-appetizing tendency; but we had been 
travelling twelve hours; and when the poor beast which 
had, an hour ago, been bleating on. the mountains did 
come up to table, we did as much justice to the fare, as 
the generally tough nature of the repast would allow. It 
was much tougher the next day. 

For years past, the cure has been believed by all 
travellers to be the real, though not the nominal 
innkeeper. Within the last year or two, there has 
been an amalgamation of their respective concerns between 
him and Zurbrucken, who was the proprietor of the rival 
establishment; but, until lately, no such arrangement 
existed, and the cure appeared to be, de facto, the inn- 
keeper. But he always had a "facon de parler/' by which 
he interposed himself as a mere interpreter between his 
guests and the " aubergiste." For instance, after we had 
initiated him into the mysteries of omelette-making, we 
asked for a second omelette, and the cure brought word 
that the aubergiste had commissioned him to say that 
there were no more eggs ; to which we returned, by the 
same ambassador, our compliments to the aubergiste, and 
we hoped he would instruct his fowls to provide a due 
supply by the evening— a message which he promised to 
convey. 

A more kind and hospitable man than the cure it would 
be difficult to find. The pastor of one of these secluded 
valleys is unavoidably a man of narrow means, and it 
would be absurd to expect in one who belongs essentially 
to the peasant- class, the kind or degree of refinement which 



120 



THE CURE. 



usually marks an educated gentleman ; but lie is not 
deficient, either in natural intelligence, or in the learning 
winch belongs to his station and order. He is a good 
Latin scholar, and can talk Latin with an ease and fluency 
that would shame many a professed scholar; and he 
appears to be greatly beloved and respected by the inhabi- 
tants of his district, which extends to the head of the 
valley in one direction, and as far as Stalden in the other. 
"If they thought I was going to leave them/'' he said 
one day, " ils me dechireraient les culottes and I believe 
he did not at all overrate the estimation in which his 
parishioners held him. 

He knows something of the botany, and a great deal of 
the topography and history, of the valley. He was the 
son of a peasant of Saas, and in his youth tended 
sheep and goats on the mountain sides, and thus acquired 
his great strength and activity. As a young man, and up 
to fifty, as he told me, he would mount without a moment's 
pause to the highest summits, " and not a sob his toil 
confess;" now, he says, he must stop occasionally, to 
admire the prospect. He has a dash of poetry in his 
composition, and loves the mountains almost passionately; 
but not so exclusively as to overlook even the little flowers 
of the Alps. There was a touch of deep feeling in the 
tone in which he spoke one day of their brief existence 
in these desolate spots — "Leur vie est tres courte; 
elle est bientot finie;" — and the true lover of nature 
spoke out when he looked up at the great crags and 
the dazzling fields of snow above us, and said, while 
his eye fired up like lightning, "Oh, nous serons gaie 
la-haut." 



ANNUAL FESTIVAL. 



121 



The most beautiful excursion, beyond all comparison, 
which can be made from Saas, is to the valley and glacier 
of Tee. I visited them in three successive years, 1852, 
1853 and 1854 ; and found each successive visit confirm 
and enhance my impressions of the grandeur and beauty of 
the scene. Just below the Hotel du Mont Eose, a rough 
bridge crosses the foaming torrent of the Visp, after 
which you turn to the left, and proceed by a good path 
which rises rapidly up the side of the mountain, in a 
direction nearly parallel to the stream. You pass some 
twelve or fourteen little "stations," in each of which 
some wretched daub or grotesque figure is enshrined, 
to excite the piety and stimulate the zeal of the passers-by, 
till the path bends round to the right, and brings you to 
the chapel of Tee. 

This is a place of some importance ; for it is here that 
the annual fete of the valley — a meeting partly of a 
religious, and partly of a social, character — takes place. It 
is held on the 8th of September, and is attended by all the 
peasants for many miles round. I was in the valley of Pee, 
one year, during the celebration of the fete ; and the cure 
told us with pride that there were no less than six priests 
assembled to assist in the solemnities. It was quite a 
brilliant scene, from the gay kerchiefs and smart head- 
dresses of the women — who of course produced, for the 
occasion, all the finery they possessed — and the cheerful 
holiday-look of the men. There must have been two or 
three hundred persons collected, in and about the chapel, 
when we passed it. Much of the religious worship was 
necessarily carried on out of doors ; and, so far as we could 
observe, a great appearance of earnestness and devotion 

G 



122 



VALLEY OF FEE. 



prevailed. It is not easy., on the fete-day, to procure guides 
or porters, or to get the inhabitants of the neighbourhood 
to engage in any occupation which would interfere with 
their being present at the fete ; and, indeed, knowing the 
strong wish of the cure that his people should be there, 
one would be reluctant to induce them to absent them- 
selves. 

Passing the chapel, you come presently to a green knoll 
of rich pasturage, surmounting which, you enter at once 
upon the secluded and charming valley of Fee. It lies at 
right angles to the valley of Saas, running nearly east and 
west, and is on a considerably higher level — perhaps some 
seven or eight hundred feet higher. There is a green hill 
at the entrance of the valley, on the north side, which fills 
up a large part of its width ; and the main valley being so 
much lower, you see nothing of it; so that when once 
within the valley of Fee, you seem quite shut out from all 
the rest of the world. The valley varies from half-a-mile 
to about a mile-and-half in width, and is bounded, on the 
north, by the bare and desolate precipices which connect the 
Mischabel range with the valley of Saas, and on the south, 
by the crags and snows of the Mittaghorn; while the 
head of the valley is occupied by a prodigious expanse of 
glacier, entirely filling a vast amphitheatre guarded by 
the tremendous and all but inaccessible peaks of the Dom 
and the Alleleinhorn. Embosomed in this imposing scene 
of desolation and solitude is the sweetest pastoral valley 
that ever God created or man enjoyed. The pasture 
grounds are rich and well- watered ; the grass is of the 
freshest green ; trees grow freely and stoutly in the more 
sheltered spots ; corn and flax are safely reared ; rough, 



EXQUISITE SCENE. 



123 



sunburnt chalets are dotted here and there about the fertile 
meadows ; and about half-way up the valley, a comfortable 
hamlet of well-built and substantial cottages, nestling in 
the warmest spot, is sheltered from the bitterness of the 
easterly winds by a gentle undulation of the ground. I 
know no scene which rivals the exquisite loveliness of this 
peaceful valley : placed amongst the wildest and most 
terrific recesses of the Alps, its intrinsic beauty strikes 
with uncommon force upon the imagination, from the con- 
trast it presents to all the surrounding images of sterility and 
desolation ; and a scene of eternal peace appears to slumber 
gently in the midst of eternal horrors. Such is the view 
that bursts in a few seconds upon the eye, on entering the 
valley of Pee. 

ISFor is this beautiful oasis in the desert of ice and snow 
and crag, as is too often the case with the fairest spots 
on earth, inhabited by a race unworthy of such a home. 
The natives are, to all appearance, totally distinct from 
those of the valley of Saas and the adjacent districts. 
The men are more manly and independent, the women 
finer and more shapely and good-looking than any in the 
neighbourhood. Their short faces, small noses, white 
teeth, determined though good-humoured mouths, full 
cheeks, blue eyes and light hair make them easily dis- 
tinguishable from the natives of any other valley in the 
district. The people, especially the women, are cleaner, 
the houses are more comfortable and better kept, than 
in the valley of Saas, and the whole village wears an 
unmistakeable air of decent industry and prosperity. 
The men in the upper valley of Saas, however, are them- 
selves a finer set than those of the lower parts, between 

g 2 



124 



" A STRAPPING WOMAN." 



Stalden and Visp, and are less in the habit of imposing 
the burden of the family toil upon the women. I once 
wanted a porter to carry a knapsack and a carpet bag 
from Visp to Saas — I was told I could not get a man to do 
the work ; but I could have them carried by a " grosse 
femme " a strapping woman/' if I would j* it was the 
very answer that was given to De Saussure, when he wanted 
to find some one in the valley of Macugnaga., who should 
transport his cases of minerals ; with the addition, in his 
case, that no man would be strong enough for the task. 
In that valley, however, at the present day, the men are 
a fine race; the peasant girls are the tallest, straightest 
and finest women I have ever seen. 

The valley of Pee presents unmistakeable evidence 
that it was once the bed of a glacier. Many " roches 
moutonnees" occur, along the whole length of the valley ; 
besides large transported blocks of serpentine and granite. 
The stratification of the rocks on the north side of the 
valley is very well marked, and the junction of the limestone 
with the gneiss distinctly defined. A walk of about three 
quarters of an hour, up the valley, and past the hamlet 
of Tee, brings you to a very remarkable spot. A large 
green hill of pasture ground, surmounted by a craggy 
mass as high again as the pasture, divides the great Tee 
glacier into two parts. The larger lies to the left; a 
smaller part of the glacier, though itself of great size, 
pours down from the right, and comes curving round to 
the left, underneath the pasture ground, till it lies fairly 
below, and across the bottom of, the main arm of the 

* The " strapping woman" in question laughed when she saw 
the load, and wanted to carry off the guide's knapsack to boot. 



FEE-GLETS CHER- ALP. 



125 



glacier; whose streams pour against it, and work 
out a passage under the ice, till they emerge, half 
a mile off, at the other side of the lesser branch of the 
glacier. The green hill, called the Tee-gletscher-alp, 
is thus an island amidst a sea of ice ; and affords excellent 
pasturage for the sheep and goats which are driven up 
hither from the hamlet and chalets of Fee. A very rough 
track, worn by them and the shepherds, leads, first over a 
bridge which spans the glacier stream, and then amongst 
the mass of rocks and debris which lie accumulated at the 
foot of the glacier. 

This terminal moraine of the glacier of Fee contains a 
singular variety of stones — granite, serpentine (whicn latter 
is abundant about Monte Rosa, being in situ in the higher 
parts of this mountain) a little limestone and less quartz, 
gneiss, a good deal of some very highly ferruginous stone, 
and, here and there, beautiful specimens of dolomite were 
among the most easily recognizable. A very distinctive 
characteristic of the neighbourhood of Monte Rosa is the 
abundant intermixture with the soil of a fine micaceous grit. 
Every flower you gather, every root you pluck up, glistens 
with the fine plates of sparkling mineral ; in my books of 
dried flowers, some of which have been gathered three or four 
years, the specimens which come from anywhere near 
Monte Rosa still catch the eye in a moment, from the 
brilliancy of the little fragments of mica with which they 
are powdered over. 

After skirting the lower branch of the glacier, the track 
leads first underneath the foot of the upper branch, and 
then over a fatiguing bit of the lateral moraine which bounds 
the upper side of the lower branch. On my first visit, in 



126 



ADVANCE OF THE GLACIERS. 



1852, I found the two arms of the glacier about fifty or 
sixty yards apart. The path seemed even then a dangerous 
one, as the glacier is upon a considerable slope, and great 
blocks of recently fallen ice strewed the way in many places. 
As we passed under the most advanced part of the upper 
branch, a great mass of ice seemed just ready to part from 
the glacier, and we were glad to run for it. 

The next year, we found the two branches of the 
glacier considerably nearer to one another, the distance 
between them being not above fifteen or twenty yards, and 
the danger of the path was proportionally increased. 
Balmat, who was with us on the second occasion, was very 
much struck with the dangerous look of the place, and 
advised us to run for some distance as fast as we could ; 
and on our return in the afternoon, we found that several 
huge blocks had fallen since the morning. In 1854, we 
found the upper branch touching, and resting upon, the 
lower, and we had to cross a part of it, to get to the pasture 
ground beyond. Balmat reminded me of the blocks that 
had detached themselves while we were on the hill above, 
the year before ; and as my wife was of the party, it was 
with some misgivings that he led the way, and he consi- 
dered it so dangerous, that under his advice, on returning, 
we crossed the glacier higher up, though with some difficulty 
and fatigue, and though it involved a most laborious descent 
over the moraine on the other side. He exclaimed repeat- 
edly that he did not like the passage, and that " un grand 
malheur doit certainement arriver un jour quelconque.'" 

Last year, the line of contact of the two arms was 
much longer, and the weight of the descending mass 
had curiously twisted the crevasses in its immediate 



MARMOTS. 



127 



neighbourhood. Indeed, throughout the valleys on this 
side of Monte Rosa, the glaciers have been advancing 
during the last four or five years — how much longer, I can- 
not tell. I noticed, in 1853, close to the foot of the Gorner 
glacier, above Zerrnatt, a chalet which, the year before, 
had been a considerable distance from it, and I was told 
that probably in a few days it would be necessary to pull it 
down, and carry off all that was worth taking away. It 
was curious to see the earth pressed into wrinkles in front 
of the glacier, as it advanced in its slow, but sure and 
devastating course. It had then just laid hold of a young 
fir-tree, and I have no doubt that by the morrow the tree 
was torn up by the roots, or broken short off. I observed 
the same wrinkling of the earth, in front of the Allelein 
glacier, in 1853 and 1854. In a few years the ice will 
probably retreat again, slowly and gradually, leaving 
behind it a huge accumulation of rocks and boulders, 
in place of the fertile meadows it has destroyed. 

Even the moraine of this great glacier is not destitute of 
vegetation. Many parts of it are covered with large 
patches of the epilobium rosemarinum, which blooms luxu- 
riantly within a few feet of the ice, and makes the barren 
waste look almost gay with its great patches of bright pink 
flowers. It takes a long hour to mount to the top of the 
Pee-gletscher-alp. It is a steep climb, up a green hill, 
which affords excellent pasture for goats and sheep, and 
abounds in marmots. You may hear them whistling on 
every side of you, and if you lie still, you may see them 
playing about by the dozen. Give them the least alarm, 
and they set up a shrill squeak, and dart instantly into their 
holes, where they will remain for some time, until satisfied 



128 PROFUSION OF FLOWERS. 

that the coast is clear. The marmot is not duly appreciated 
in Switzerland, any more than the bilberry, else this would 
be a spot much frequented by the hunter. 

A few dwarf shrubs grow on the lowest parts of the 
Fee-alp, whose slopes are rich beyond description in wild 
flowers of the most clear and brilliant hues. The anemone 
sulphurea is abundant on the lower part, and, as you ascend, 
gives place, at a well defined line, to the geum montanum* 
which literally dazzles the eye with its brightness and pro- 
fusion, while all about are spread rich patches of gentians 
of every kind and shade and size, from the great spotted 
flower from whose root the tincture is concocted, to the 
delicate dark blue of the verna or pumila. Forget-me-nots, 
potentillas, sedums, saxifrages, milkworts, eyebright, are 
strewn about in wild abundance, and in the height .of 
the short summer the scene is more like fahyland than a 
reality. 

As you mount, everything becomes dwarfed ; the geum 
flowers with an almost imperceptible stalk, the forget- 
me-nots crouch close to the ground, the soft herbage 
gives place to the reindeer moss and the salix herbacea — 
the smallest of plants with woody fibre — a tree so 
diminutive, that trunk, branches and foliage, are often 
not half an inch in height, and which supplies the mar- 
mot and the chamois with food, when the grass withers 
under the severity of the climate. As you approach the 
glacier on either side of you, the colours become instantly 

* It is curious to observe how clearly marked this line of sepa- 
ration is. Seeking for seeds of both plants, I could find, up to a 
certain point, only the anemone. All at once, I came upon the geum 
in great profusion, and met with no more anemones. 



ROCKS OF LA TETE. 



129 



clearer, fresher and brighter, though the flowers are 
smaller.* 

The pasture grounds are surmounted by a chain of 
rugged and precipitous crags, called the rocks of La Tete. 
Among the debris at their feet are many crystals of 
quartz, and some small rubies of an inferior quality. There 
are indications of threads of quartz among the rocks, and 
probably the mineralogist would be well repaid for a 



* The following is a list of the plants I have fonnd on the Fee- 
gletscher-alp. It is very far from complete, for whenever I have 
been there, the season has been advanced ; but it will serve to give 
some idea of the richness of the flora of this beautiful spot : — 

Adenostyles leucophylla (close to the rocks of La Tete). 
Androsace obtusifolia. 
Anemone sulphurea (abundant). 
Arnica montana. 
Aster alpinus. 

Botrychium lunaria (cryptog.). 
Btcnias, sp. ? 

Bupleurum graminifolium. 
Calluna vulgaris (ling). 
Campanula barbata. 

Dianihus monspessulanus (Montpelier pink). 
Euphorbia, sp. ? 

Geum montanum (very abundant). 



Gent, 



ana alpina. 
bavarica. 
bracteata. 
Jimbriata. 
germanica. 

nivalis (from the highest rocks of La Tete). 
pumila. 
verna. 

g 3 



130 



ROCKS OF LA TETE. 



earch. There is one place, and one only, where the 
precipices can be scaled, by little inequalities in the 
surface; after which, you come upon a wild scene of 
desolation — masses of rock and boulders confusedly hurled 
together, and with scarcely mould enough to support the 
scantiest vegetation, varied by great patches of snow which 
seldom melt. Every here and there, however, in some 
neglected corner, the ranunculus glacialis announces your 
proximity to the eternal snows ; and at the very summit of 
the crag, where on one side you are on a level with the ice, 
and on the other, at the brink of a sheer precipice of nearly 
a thousand feet, down which you gaze upon a surface 
broken by tremendous crevasses, luxuriant patches of the 

Gnaphalium alpinum (just below La Tete). 

Helianthemum vulgare. 

Leucanthemum (ox-eye daisy). 

Linaria alpina. 

Lloydia serotina. 

Myosotis alpestris. 

„ rupicola. 

„ sp. ? 
Potentilla aurea. 

Ranunculus alpestris (rocks of La Tete). 
Saxifraga aspera. 

„ azoides. 

„ bryoides. 

„ crustata. 
Sedum album (very fine). 
Sempervivum arachnoideum. 

montanum. 
TJdaspi cepceifolium. 
Veronica bellidioides. 

The grasses are also strikingly beautiful, and in plentiful variety. 



CURIOUS PHENOMENON. 



131 



beautiful gentiana nivalis, blooming within a few feet of 
the glacier, year after year, " blush unseen, and waste their 
sweetness on the desert air." 

The scene from the summit of La Tete is one of extra- 
ordinary magnificence. On every side, you are surrounded 
by the immense Glacier of Pee, which descends from, and 
connects by one vast curtain of ice, the tremendous peaks 
of the Dom, on the right, and the Alphubel, and Allelein- 
horn, on the left. This wide expanse is riven by the most 
formidable crevasses, some of which run nearly from side to 
side of the glacier. In one place, it seems as though the 
lid of a huge sarcophagus was supported upon four 
immense quadrangular pyramidal columns ; so perfectly 
regular, that they •might well have been fashioned by the 
hand of the mason. I observed this curious phenomenon 
in 1852, and the next year, on directing the telescope 
towards the quarter where 1 had seen it, I found precisely 
the same form repeated in the same place. It was a most 
remarkable instance of the recurrence, under the same 
conditions, of the same peculiarities of glacier formation. 
The resemblance to a slab resting on pillars was so well 
marked as to strike all who looked at it, upon each 
occasion, and as this part of the glacier is exceedingly 
crevassed, the particular masses which we saw upon the 
first occasion, must have been broken up, long before the 
second visit. In some of the great crevasses we counted, 
with the help of the telescope, as many as thirteen beds of 
snow, belonging to different years. A difficult, but 
magnificent pass, through the mazes of these great 
crevasses, and across the lowest point in the range, leads 
by a steep and laborious descent to Tasch, in the valley of 



132 MARKS OF GLACIER ACTION. 



St. Nicholas. It is scarcely ever made, but can hardly 
be inferior in grandeur and interest to any pass in 
Switzerland. 

Looking back from the summit of La Tete, the view 
down the valley of Tee, which lies spread out like a map 
at your feet, bounded by the bold range which flanks 
the opposite side of the valley of Saas, is very beautiful 
indeed. There is something very pleasing to the imagi- 
nation, in the contrast of the scene of awful desolation 
presented by the glacier and its surrounding peaks, with 
the rich blue carpet of gentians at your feet, and the soft 
pastoral scene below. 

The descent from the top of La Tete to Saas need 
not occupy above a couple of hours ; though the walk 
might be most agreeably protracted for a much longer 
time. Not having now the great glacier in front, to rivet 
the attention, you will be more at leisure to notice the 
many objects of picturesque * and scientific interest which 
the valley presents. The numerous and well-marked traces 
of old glacier action, with which the rocks that bound the 
valley, or peep through the turf, are deeply scored and 
scratched, are especially worthy of notice. I know few 
places, except the valley of the Aar below the Grimsel, 
where they are equally clear and unmistakeable. The 
descent from the valley to Saas may be varied, by taking 

* The impressions made by this beautiful walk, one magnificent 
September afternoon, as we returned from the rocks of La Tete, will 
not readily be effaced. The shadows were getting long and deep on 
the mountains, while the upper snowy peaks glowed in a flood of 
sunshine, and we all thought we had never seen anything so 
beautiful in our lives. 



THE BALERIN. 



133 



a path to the left of the " stations/' which leads through 
a deep forest of firs, where magnificent tufts of the 
gentiana asclepiadea, two or three feet high, fringe the 
path on either hand, and make the sombre wood gay with 
their profusion of rich dark blue flowers. Almost before 
you emerge from the valley of Eee, the Bietsch-horn, a 
noble snow-capped mountain, to the north of the valley 
of the Rhone, comes in sight, and adds a new feature of 
grandeur to the scene. It is lost again, before you get 
down to the bridge at Saas. 

The expedition to the valley of Fee cannot be too 
strongly recommended to persons visiting this neighbour- 
hood. It is within a very moderate compass, and may 
be taken with little fatigue, and at no expense. A guide 
is not needed ; and a mule or horse can go as far as the 
foot of the glacier; so that the excursion is one which 
a lady may take. It is not always possible, however, to 
get a mule or a horse, still less a side-saddle, at Saas; 
and it is, therefore, prudent, when a lady is of the party, 
to keep the animal which carried her to Saas. The hire 
of a horse or mule is generally six francs a day, for the 
animal, and the same for the man — a high price, but one 
which you almost always have to pay. 

There are several other excursions which are well worth 
taking from Saas. There is a very noble mountain, which 
forms an imposing object in the view up the valley from 
Visp, and which travellers are sometimes told is the Weiss- 
horn, but which is really the Ealfrin. It is the last of 
the great chain of snowy peaks which extend from Monte 
Rosa to the forks of the Visp at Stalden, and though 
not so high as the Strahlhorn, the Alphubel, or the 



134 



THE ELDER GLACIER. 



Dom, is second to none in grandeur and beauty of form. 
A passage may be forced across the glaciers which lie 
at its southern base, into the valley of St. Nicholas, or the 
mountain itself may be scaled. The cure of Saas strongly 
urged me to make this ascent, assuring me that I should 
be well repaid, and that the view, especially of the chain 
of the Oberland, was very fine indeed ; but 1 had not 
time for the expedition. The eastern extremity of the 
chain of heights which guard the northern flank of the 
valley of Pee, is a rounded peak, called the Gemshorn, 
from the back of which a glacier, connected with the range 
of the Mischabel, pours down in two branches, one over- 
hanging the Tee valley, the other, called the Bider Glet- 
scher, descending upon the valley of Saas ; the head of 
this glacier may be gained by way of either branch ; and 
then the peaks of the Balfrin will be seen, towering 
immediately above the summit of the pass, which leads in 
a north-westerly direction, under the precipices of the 
Balfrin, and down the side of the Eied Gletscher, into the 
valley of St. Nicholas, just below the village of that 
name. 

The Bider glacier is curious, from the steepness of the 
declivity on which it lies. It must be approached on the 
north side, by descending the valley of Saas for about 
half an hour, and then mounting by the left bank of the 
Bider torrent, which issues from the foot of the glacier. 
The climb is a steep one, and occupies, perhaps, a couple 
of hours. The views, both down the valley of Saas, and 
across the valley of the Ehone, and of the mountains on 
the other side of the valley of Saas, are striking. H. and 
I visited the glacier in 1852 ; we found it resting on a 



AWKWARD DESCENT. 



135 



slope of about 45°. It is about a quarter of a mile across, 
but it took us nearly half an hour to traverse it, as, 
for most of the distance, nearly every step had partly to 
be cut out with the spike of the alpenstock. 

We found the other side to be a wall of ice, going sheer 
down about fifteen feet, with then a little sloping ledge, 
which was neither broad enough, nor flat enough, to jump 
upon. Then there came another sheer wall of ice, and then 
another ledge, and so on, for about fifty or sixty feet. We 
were resolved not to go back ; and having, luckily, a piece 
of stout string, about ten feet long, in my pocket, I tied it 
round my waist. H. held me up, lying flat on the ice, so 
as not to be overbalanced by my weight, in case I slipped, 
while I sat at the edge of the ice, and hacked away a foot- 
hole beneath, with my alpenstock ; then I got down a step 
and hacked out another, and so on, till I was able safely to 
jump on to the ledge. Then I perfected the foot-holes, 
and went up a little way, and guided H/s feet into them ; 
and thus we descended all the way. In repeating the 
process at the second wall of ice, I lost my alpenstock, 
which went shooting down hundreds of feet. Had either 
of us been alone, and such an accident happened, I do not 
know what he could have done. However, we managed 
with H/s, and after more than half-an-hour's labour, suc- 
ceeded in getting off the glacier on to a wide waste of 
boulders and stones which covered the side of the mountain 
for some distance. 

A gentleman who had come up with us, but had gone 
round the end of the glacier, and was waiting for us, told 
us that when he saw us getting down he had gone out of 
sight, because he feared that if we did slip, he might cry 



136 



A DANGER DISCOVERED. 



out and make us nervous. 1 was able to get my stick again ; 
and, after crossing the mass of debris, we descended through 
acres and acres of bilberry plants, covered with fruit. There 
were bilberries enough to make tarts for the inhabitants of 
the whole valley, as long as the season lasted, and preserves 
for the whole winter besides. But throughout Switzerland 
and Savoy, there is an extraordinary neglect of this excel- 
lent fruit, which grows abundantly in most parts, and is 
never used for any purpose whatever. I have in vain endea- 
voured, over and over again, to call the attention of inn- 
keepers to the fact, that it is a favourite fruit with many 
English travellers ; none of them will try it. 

A year afterwards, I was passing up the valley of Saas, 
and, from the opposite side, had a good view of the place 
where we crossed, and of the glacier above, and saw at a 
glance the extreme danger of the course we had taken. 
Above the waste of boulders, the glacier, instead of being 
safely confined, within the rocky ridge under which we had 
passed, was actually hanging some distance down the 
surface, ready at any moment to precipitate upon the 
head of the unwary traveller boulder stones and broken 
masses of ice, which would descend with frightful velocity 
on the very spot which we had crossed. The enormous 
accumulation of rocks and debris ought to have warned us 
of the danger, though we could not see the glacier above 
us ; but we had not then had much experience of the 
mountains. A few weeks later, we should not have 
committed a similar imprudence. 

The range of mountains which bounds the valley of 
Saas on the east, and separates it from the valley of the 
Simplon is still better worth exploring than the op- 



NEW PASSES. 



137 



posite chain. It may be traversed in several places — 
across the Trift Gletscher to the Simplon ; road by the 
glaciers south of the Weisamies to Zwischbergen and 
Bugnanco; across the glaciers of the Soninghorn, the 
Furgge Gletscher and the Ofenthal Gletscher to the 
fertile valley of Antrona ; and by the Eosswang Gletscher 
to the Yal Anzasca. 

These passes are very little known ; but, as the cure of 
Saas told me, are hardly second to any, in grandeur and 
interest. One of the passes to Antrona, he spoke of as 
especially beautiful, and not very difficult. A glance at 
the map will show that the views they command of the 
great chain which runs northward from Monte Eosa must 
be extremely fine. No doubt, now that the accommodation 
at Saas is far better than it used to be, the great mountains 
and glacier passes which are accessible from this valley will 
be far more completely explored than they have hitherto 
been. I cannot give better advice to any one who wishes 
to become acquainted with some of the finest scenery which 
the Alps afford, than to repair to the hospitable Hotel du 
Mont Eose, and take counsel of the cure, whose knowledge 
of the neighbourhood is only equalled by his hearty good- 
will in giving the traveller every information in his power, 
and in procuring for him every facility for carrying out 
his plans. 

No one who reaches Saas should omit to visit the 
Allelein glacier, if he is not going to cross the Moro. 
The view is very fine, and the glacier one of the most 
curious and instructive in Switzerland. It has already 
been mentioned, that it completely dams up the valley, and 
thus occasions the formation of the Mattmarksee. It is 



138 



ALLELEIN GLACIER. 



evident that it has formerly been much larger than it is at 
present. "Bochers moutonnes" are visible, high up the 
east side of the valley, opposite to the present glacier, and 
blocks of transported granite are strewn about, to a con- 
siderable height above the present level of the glacier. 
Some of the blocks near the glacier have fine plates and 
threads of turmaline imbedded in them. Among the rocks 
by the side of the Mattmarksee, saxifrages, rhododendrons, 
sedums and other hardy flowers bloom very luxuriantly ; 
and on the moraine of the glacier which forms the barrier 
of the lake, artemisia nana is to be found.* 

The direction of the crevasses of the Allelein glacier is 
interesting, and affords an excellent instance of how they 
are affected by the nature of its bed and course. The 
glacier pours down against the eastern side of the valley 
of Saas, and, being unsupported on its left, falls away 
down the valley, and ends its course, some distance below, 
where the torrent issues from a deep cavern of dark blue 
ice. The crevasses follow exactly the same change of 
direction, and radiate from one point till they have 
undergone a change of direction, of nearly 90°. 



* A few of the plants found here are enumerated in Chapter vn. 



CHAPTER VII. 



PASSAGE OF THE ALLELEIN GLACIER, FROM SAAS 
TO ZERMATT. 

" Per nives sempiternas et rupes treinendas." 

See Chapter YIII. 



START BY CANDLELIGHT — MOUNTAIN SHEEP — PERILOUS SCRAMBLE 
— BASIN OP THE ALLELEIN GLACIER — GARLIC — A THEOLOGICAL 
GUIDE — DEEP SNOW — PRECIPICES OF ICE — KINDNESS OF THE 

CURE — VALLEY OF TAESCH — HUNTING THE MARMOT — A RACE 

THE "STRONG MAN OF SAAS " — THE CURE'S NIGHT-WALK 

VALLEY OF ST. NICHOLAS — YIEW OF THE MATTERHORN — ZERMATT 
— REMARKS. 

After waiting three days at Saas for clear weather, we 
started on Saturday, September 11th, 1852, to cross the 
great Allelein glacier into the valley of St. Nicholas. The 
preceding Thursday had been very wet and cold, which led 
us to expect much new snow, and we therefore set off very 
early. We were called half an hour after midnight, and 
by one o'clock were at breakfast ; but there was so much 
chattering and dawdling over the preparations for the 



140 



START IN THE DARK. 



journey, that it was half past two before we were fairly off. 
Our party consisted of H. and myself, our two guides, and 
the cure, who had kindly offered to give us the benefit of 
his experience and knowledge of the mountains, an English 
gentleman, named P., who had arrived the day before and 
wished to join us, and his Chamouni guide — Zachary 
Cachat, who afterwards accompanied me over the Col du 
Geant. We made a picturesque procession as we filed off 
up the valley ; first a guide carrying a lantern, then myself, 
then another guide with a lantern, then H., then the 
Chamouni man with a lantern, then P., and last of all the 
cure, who had armed himself with a tremendous alpenstock, 
eight or nine feet long, and made of ash — which looked very 
like business — and a pair of shoes, all soles and nails, and 
wore a white low-crowned felt hat with the top knocked in. 
Tor two hours, we walked and stumbled along the rugged 
path by the glancing and uncertain light of the lanterns. 
The first signs of dawn appeared soon after four, and at 
half-past four the cure ordered the lights to be put out and 
deposited behind a rock, where they were " left until called 
for/' 

When we came to the foot of the Allelein glacier, where 
it chokes up the valley, the cure took the lead and went off 
at a rattling pace ; the way in which he selected the best 
places to traverse the moraine and the foot of the glacier, 
and his decided air, showing that he knew well what he 
was about. The breaking of day over the rugged and 
crevassed mass of the Allelein glacier and the snowy heights 
which tower above it, was indescribably beautiful. There 
was a light, fleecy cloud, resting on the upper part of the 
glacier, which seemed to glitter with no borrowed radiance. 



A DANGEROUS TRACK. 



141 



About five o' clock, we reached the upper end of the 
Mattmarksee, and met quantities of sheep coming down 
from the mountains. It was the day of dividing them 
among their respective owners, after the summer's pasturing 
on the higher slopes, which were now getting too cold and 
exposed for them. Many were remarkably fine animals, 
and all very tame ; they crowded about us, and licked our 
hands, in a manner which showed that they had had no 
reason to be afraid of man. 

"We traversed the plain at the upper end of the lake, and 
passing by some chalets, at about half past five began the 
real ascent. There is here a deep and wide ravine, running 
up nearly due west, far into the mountain side. Crossing 
this, we climbed its further side, keeping at present rather 
away from the main part of the mountain, and zig-zagging 
nearly north and south, in order to take advantage of some 
pasture grounds. At half past six, just above these, we first 
came to the snow, freshly fallen, and crisp with the night's 
frost, lying far below where it is usually first met with. 
Here we turned to the west, and proceeded up the side of 
the ravine I have mentioned. It was a scramble along 
ledges of rock, and over rough and stony ground, which 
lasted for an hour and a half, and was a very bad bit of 
climbing. The snow was about four or five inches deep, 
and the ledges along which we had to crawl looked as if 
they would scarcely afford footing for a goat. There was 
a precipice, a thousand feet deep, just beneath us for the 
whole distance, and as the footing was almost always shel- 
ving down towards it, often within a foot or two of the 
edge, uncertain and precarious, covered with treacherous 
snow, which prevented our seeing whether it was upon a 



142 



VAST EXTENT OF GLACIER. 



firm rock, or a loose piece of stone, or slippery tuft of 
herbage, that we were about to tread — it was really a 
scramble of some risk, and exciting enough. I had one 
serious slip, which alarmed the whole party a good deal. 

The views, all along here, whenever we were able to 
spare attention enough to look at them, were of the 
sublimest character. Par beneath us, at our very feet, 
lay the ravine I have spoken of, surmounted, on the 
opposite side, by a tremendous mass of glacier and snow, 
which stretched away in one unbroken mass to the Cima 
de Jazzi, and, to the left of this peak, sweeping round to 
the Monte Moro, and thence to the mountains on the 
other side of the valley of Saas. Most of these glacier 
fields appear, from a distance, to be but slightly crevassed, 
and the dazzling extent of pure, smooth, glistening snow, 
stretching away, slope after slope, sweep after sweep, 
basin after basin and peak after peak, all sparkling in the 
bright sunlight of a beautiful September morning made 
a scene easier to remember than to describe. 

We came, at length, to a steep bank, of snow, on our 
right, and turning half round climbed up it for some 
minutes. At eight o'clock exactly, we reached its summit, 
and found that we had arrived at the edge of the glacier : 
and here a fresh scene of glory burst upon the view. 
We gazed down into the gigantic basin of the Allelein 
glacier, which we were about to cross, bounded, on the 
opposite side to where we stood, by the black and frowning 
precipices of the Alleleinhorn, which conceals the loftier 
Alphubel from the sight, and filled with an enormous 
mass of ice riven and torn asunder by crevasses and 
chasms of terrific width and depth. Beneath the peak of 



DEEP SNOW. 



143 



the Alleleinhorn, the glacier pours down through a narrow 
opening into the valley of Saas. Beyond this, lies another 
vast glacier basin, (that of Tee) partly hidden by the 
boundary wall of the Allelein glacier, over which we looked 
upon the further slopes of the Tee glacier, and upon the 
magnificent aretes and black crags of the Mischabel and the 
Dom, sprinkled only with patches of snow, and forming a fine 
contrast to the glistening fields of spotless white which, in 
other directions, met the eye. On the left (the side on 
which we stood) the Bympsischhorn, and, nearer, the 
Stahlhorn close in and form the mighty barriers of the 
glacier. We did not, however, upon this occasion, see the 
view to advantage, as the hazy state of the atmosphere con- 
cealed from us all the most distant parts of the prospect.* 

The cure said that, but for the new snow, we should go 
right across the glacier; but as the smaller crevasses 
would be hidden, and only crusted over with the new snow, 
it would not be safe, and we must therefore mount much 
higher, and skirt the greater part of the glacier basin, 
passing beneath the base of the Stahlhorn. We therefore, 
brought out the ropes, and got in harness • and here we 
found that, by the kind and careful forethought of the cure, 
a stout pair of gaiters was provided for each of us, which 
he would insist upon tying on with his own hands. They 
proved a most acceptable protection against the deep 
snow. We now filed off to the left, up a vast swelling 
mountain of snow, and then up another beyond that, 

* I saw the distant view next year, in passing over the Col 
Imseng, as mentioned in the next chapter. 



144 



GARLIC AGAIN! 



whose crest, where a few rocks jutted out, we reached soon 
after ten o'clock. 

Here we made our first halt, and lunched on eggs, meat, 
bread and cheese, wine and brandy. Our dismay may be 
imagined, when the meat turned out so highly seasoned 
with garlic, that, though as hungry as hunters, we were 
obliged to abandon it to the guides, and content ourselves 
with bread and cheese and eggs. Fortunately, the eggs 
were not flavoured with the noisome herb. 

From this point, we had hoped to see the mountains of 
the distant Tyrol, but the mists were rising, and had already 
hidden them, and the cure, who had intended, we found, to 
leave us here and return by himself, became apprehensive 
that we might be caught in a fog ; and he resolved, as he 
knew the mountains much better than our guides, to accom- 
pany us into the valley of St. Nicholas. "We little knew the 
inconvenience to which he was putting himself, and thank- 
fully accepted the assistance of so experienced and able a 
mountaineer ; and accordingly, in about twenty minutes 
resumed our tackle and took to the snow again. The cure 
now put himself at our head, and made the steps, followed 
by the Chamouni guide, P., H., myself and our two guides. 
It was wonderful to see the vigour with which the cure, who 
was sixty-three years of age, stumped on through the deep 
snow. To go first and make the steps is no small exertion. 
If you want to save yourself labour, go as far back in the 
line of march as you can, when the snow is deep. A great 
deal of the comfort of those who follow depends upon the 
precision and regularity with which the steps are made by 
the leader ; they should be not too far apart ; it is very 



A THEOLOGICAL GUIDE. 



145 



fatiguing to find each step a little longer than is natural to 
you — and above all, they should be regular. When they are 
not so, the labour becomes beyond all comparison greater, 
and the manner in which he makes the steps in the snow is 
one of the surest indications of a well-trained guide. 

We were now sinking from twelve to eighteen inches 
deep at every step, and often much deeper ; H., who is a 
a heavier man than myself, several times plunged in nearly 
to his waist ; but the cure held on for a great distance, 
and then took turns with the Chamouni guide and one of 
ours. The other, a young man studying for the church, 
and acting as guide during the summer months, in order 
to eke out his scanty means, was not accustomed to 
carry heavy burdens, and was almost knocked up before the 
day was over, though he went last all the way. He was 
the only one of the party, except the cure, who attempted 
to dispense with veils or spectacles, or both. But he had 
not been a hour on the glacier, before his bloodshot eyes 
showed how little he was fit to forego such aids. One of 
our party insisted upon his taking the spectacles he him- 
self was wearing ; an act of self-denial, which cost him the 
whole of the skin of his face, for he was obliged to double 
his veil over his eyes, to keep out the blinding glare, and 
consequently had no protection for the lower part of his 
face, which, in a day or two, was blistered all over, like paint 
on a scorched board, and continued so for nearly a week. 
As for the cure, he was far above any such effeminate 
necessities ; his weather-beaten countenance was proof alike 
against light and heat and wind, and I believe he could 
have looked the sun in the face without blinking. 

The bad state of the snow not only greatly increased 

h 



146 



PRECIPICES OF ICE. 



the labour of walking, but compelled us to make a great 
detour under the base of the Strahlhorn, so as to skirt the 
central part of the glacier, and avoid the most crevassed 
portion. Here, one of our guides was leading the pro- 
cession, and we found a vast difference between his long, 
irregular steps, and the short, well-measured tread of the 
cure, or the Chamouni man. We had hardly started from 
our breakfasting place, when a magnificent avalanche came 
crashing down the precipices which lie beneath the 
Strahlhorn on the east. We heard it thundering below, 
long after we lost sight of it. About eleven o' clock, we 
arrived at a strange pillar of rock, which juts up in solitary 
state from the bosom of the glacier, to a considerable height ; 
the ice bad failed to close round its southern side, and the 
great chasm thus left disclosed most distinctly and beau- 
tifully, the structure and formation of the glacier, beneath 
the thick mantle of snow which lay many feet deep on the 
surface of the ice. Below this rock, the glacier was rifted 
into fearful crevasses. 

At this point, we turned somewhat to the right, and, 
leaving the Strahlhorn, descended very rapidly for about 
half an hour, and crossed in an oblique direction to the 
other side of the glacier, just under the peak of the Allelein- 
horn, where stupendous precipices of ice, covered with 
huge ice-pendants, and glittering with all the colours of 
the rainbow, presented a scene of sparkling and fantastic 
magnificence. The glacier was here very steep, and a 
glissade impossible, both from the state of the snow, and 
because at the bottom of the slope was an immense crevasse, 
which we had to go round. And now began our last 
ascent, to the top of a kind of saddle, which lies between 



INTENSE COLD. 



147 



the Alleleinhom and the Bympsischhorn. This was an 
hour's work, and most laborious ; for not only was the 
slope very steep, and the snow deep and freshly fallen, but 
the sun had been playing on it for hours, with unclouded 
brightness, and it was consequently soft and slushy, and 
the heat almost overpowering. Before we reached the top, 
a cloud came between us and the sun, and a fresh breeze 
sprang up across the glacier. In a minute, it was intensely 
cold ; the breath froze on our veils, and we could with 
difficulty keep our hands from being benumbed. It was 
about five minutes to one when we reached the summit of 
the pass, a height of more than 13,000 feet above the 
level of the sea, and more than 8,000 above Saas. H. and 
I both felt the rarity of the air sensibly, and I was a good 
deal exhausted ; but the magnificence of the view, though 
confined by the mist to the wild peaks and trackless 
waste of glacier in our immediate neighbourhood, well 
repaid the labour. The cure told us, that had it been fine, 
we should have seen the lakes and plains of Italy, the 
mountains of the Tyrol, the Bernese Oberland, and Mont 
Blanc ; but we were unfortunately obliged to take them 
upon trust. 

The glacier of Tasch, by which we were to descend into 
the valley of St. Nicholas, is broken by crevasses and 
chasms wider and more terrible than even those of the 
Allelein glacier. But we kept well to the right of the 
most formidable, and after about five-and-forty minutes' 
walking down a gentle slope of snow, and across some ugly 
bridges of fresh snow, spanning huge crevasses, reached 
some rocks on the right or north side of the glacier, where 
we stopped nearly half an hour, and dined as well as the 

h 2 



148 



EXTRAORDINARY KINDNESS. 



all- pervading smack of garlic would allow us to do. Here 
we were startled to learn that our kind friend the cure was 
actually going to walk all the way back from Tasch to 
Saas, by way of Stalden, in the night, in order to perform 
early mass at five o' clock the next morning. I should not 
do justice to ourselves, if I did not express the grateful 
sense we all entertained of this act of almost unparalleled 
kindness on the part of the cure, in thus accompanying us 
beyond all chance of danger or accident, at the cost of such 
immense labour and inconvenience, as a walk of six or 
seven and twenty hours at a stretch must involve, in the 
case of a man on the wrong side of sixty. The obligation 
was enhanced by the delicacy which kept us in ignorance 
of the extent of the sacrifice until it was too late to 
prevent it. 

After dinner, we took to the glacier again, and crossing 
another slope, to the right of all its vast and dangerous 
crevasses, about three o' clock quitted the ice for the lateral 
moraine. Here, we unfastened the ropes by which we had 
been tied together for the last seven hours. It was just 
eight hours and a half since we had left the turf in the 
valley of Saas, and for several hours we had never taken a 
step less than six inches deep in the snow, which was 
generally up to our knees, and not unfrequently to our 
thighs. . The cure's gaiters had proved of the greatest 
service, and kept us warm, though nothing could prevent 
the snow from penetrating our boots. 

We had now a rapid and laborious descent, over moraine 
and rock, chequered with scanty patches of vegetation, for 
the best part of an hour, at the end of which we found our- 
selves on a beautiful soft turf, and in a level valley, about 



HUNTING THE MAItMOT. 



149 



three miles long, expanding in the middle to a broad plain. 
We fell in with a hunter, armed with a clumsy rifle, of 
enormous thickness and weight. We had heard the echoes 
of two shots when on the glacier above ; they proved to 
have been the death-knells of two marmots which he was 
carrying home. The patience required in the chase of this 
animal is extraordinary. When once seriously frightened, 
they run to their holes, and hours sometimes elapse before 
they will venture out again. The hunter has no chance if 
he is seen, and has to hide behind a rock, or build a wall 
of stones, from behind which he can level his rifle and 
take aim, unperceived by the poor little marmot. It 
would seem scarcely worth the while of any man to pursue 
such game, for the marmot is but lightly esteemed, and 
the skin is not worth much — perhaps a franc or two. 

At the end of this fertile little valley, which is watered 
by the torrent of the Tasch glacier, we came to a very steep 
descent over the pasture grounds; and here, the cure 
raced us down the mountain, leaping and bounding like a 
young chamois ; he made himself very merry at the expense 
of the Chamouni man, whom he "chaffed" unmercifully 
for getting heated with the run. At a quarter past five, 
we reached the village of Tasch, in the valley of St. 
Nicholas. We were near the end of our day's work, but 
the cure had scarcely more than half done his. Ten or 
eleven hours' walk lay before him, through the dark night, 
— five hours down the valley to Stalden, and then four or 
five hours' ascent, by the rugged path from Stalden to Saas. 
However, he did not seem to think very much of the 
matter, and was only anxious to make the most of what 
remained of daylight, as the road to St. Nicholas is bad, 



150 



THE " STRONG MAN." 



and a slip might be dangerous. He asked us to let one of 
our guides accompany him, as the way was long and lonely 
in the dark. The theological student wished us to keep 
him for some excursions from Zermatt, and we therefore 
arranged that the cure should take the other, a man whom 
we always spoke of as the " strong man of Saas." He was 
a short thick-set fellow, of no great promise, but of extra- 
ordinary performance. He had carried nearly half a 
hundred- weight of ropes, provisions and baggage, and had 
gone first in the snow during the heaviest part of the 
ascent, and yet seemed as fresh as when he started, and 
apparently thought no more of the night-march home than 
the cure did. Indeed, I think he was rather pleased at the 
prospect of getting back, without the expense of a night's 
lodging at an inn. 

We took a reluctant leave of our friend the cure, whom 
we watched till an angle in the path concealed him from 
our sight. We learned, a year afterwards, that he reached 
St. Nicholas about eight, where he sat and slept, with his 
head on the table, for two hours, and starting again at ten, 
arrived at Saas about four the next morning. At five, he 
was at his post in the church, performing early mass, after 
which, he went to bed and slept most of the day ; but he 
was not a bit the worse for the expedition — a day's 
work which would have tried most younger men. 

When the cure disappeared, we turned up the valley, 
oy a beautiful path which rises and falls a good deal, but 
on the whole leads gently upwards, partly through dark 
woods of fir, partly by the side of a wild dashing torrent 
which carries off the waters of the great Gorner glacier. 
This is crossed by a bridge, at a great height above the 



THE MATTERHORN. 151 

stream, at a place where it rushes through a savage gorge, 
whose sides all but meet at the top, and at length rich 
meadow lands are reached, and Zermatt is before you, nestled 
in the very bosom of this great valley, flanked by lofty moun- 
tains, all of which are surmounted by vast glaciers and rug- 
ged peaks. The sides of the valley, however, are too preci- 
pitous for the snowy ranges above them to be visible. 
The view is closed, at the end of the valley, by the great 
glacier fields — from here they look almost like plains— 
which lie at the base of the Breithorn, the little Mont 
Cervin and the Matterhorn. The only glacier which 
descends to the valley is the great Gorner Gletscher, one 
of the longest in Switzerland, which sweeps away to the 
left till you reach its sources in the very heart of Monte 
Eosa. To the right of this, you behold with amazement, 
I might say with awe, the tremendous peak of the 
Matterhorn, towering in solitary grandeur far into the 
heavens ; seemingly, lurching over to the left, till you 
might fancy that it must some day fall with a crash that 
would shake the earth to its centre. Rising, as it 
does, a sheer precipice of five thousand feet, and stand- 
ing apart from any other peak, it looks, from this valley, 
higher than any other mountain in Switzerland. It 
comes very suddenly into sight at a turn of the path, 
and is certainly the most stupendous object I have ever 
beheld. 

It is nearly five miles from Tasch to Zermatt, but we 
were in high spirits at our successful accomplishment 
of a very difficult pass, and H. and I soon distanced our 
theological friend, who had the baggage to carry, poor 
fellow, and was terribly tired with the day's work. We 



152 



REMARKS. 



shouldered our poles and marched gaily on, chatting over 
the incidents of the day, and agreeing that it would form 
a landmark in our recollections throughout life, stopping, 
every now and then, to gaze in wonder at the sharp peak 
of the Matterhorn, and in an hour and five minutes after 
bidding adieu to our brave old friend the cure, we were 
in front of the clean and hospitable Hotel du Mont 
Cervin, enjoying the hearty welcome of our friend Mr. A., 
who had come from Saas to-day, by way of Stalden, and 
by whose kindness we found excellent rooms engaged for 
us, and every accommodation and comfort in readiness. 

The Allelein pass, as will be evident from the foregoing 
description, is not to be undertaken by persons of doubtful 
strength or endurance, or without the assistance of good 
guides. The difficulty, however, varies much according 
to the state of the snow. It is very seldom so bad as we 
found it on this occasion : I passed across part of the same 
glacier, the following year, and was hardly over my shoe 
tops in snow. The danger, as well as the difficulty, is 
much increased, when the snow is deep and freshly fallen, 
as the crevasses are then in a great measure concealed, 
and the first intimation you have of their existence may be 
by the giving way of the snow underneath you. When 
no snow has fallen for a considerable time, there is hardly 
any danger from this cause. A pass of this height must, 
however, always be a matter of some difficulty and fatigue, 
and should not be taken without a certain amount of 
preparation and precaution. It is not very easy to meet 
with a really good guide for this pass, as it is not very 
often made. We were about the fifth party that had ever 
crossed it - } and I doubt if there were four persons, either at 



REMARKS. 



153 



Saas or Zermatt, besides our friend the cure, who were 
familiar with the passage. I have no doubt that by this 
time it is better known in both valleys. The labour would 
be less, if the pass were made from the valley of St. 
Nicholas to that of Saas, than if taken in the opposite direc- 
tion, and the views would be, if anything, superior ; but the 
difficulty, and, in a bad state of the snow, the danger of 
the descent would be much greater. The fatigue would 
be much diminished by sleeping at the chalets above the 
Mattmarksee, instead of starting from Saas ; but the people 
in the higher parts of the valley were just on the move, 
and coming down for the winter, so that the cure thought 
we might find the chalets shut up, and the hay taken away. 
There are very few passes to vie in interest with those 
by which this great offshoot of the Monte Rosa chain is 
crossed, and, for a glacier pass of the first order, the 
Allelein is by no means particularly difficult. This 
neighbourhood has one considerable advantage for ex- 
cursionists over the Chamouni district. The price of 
guides is much more moderate — they charge by the day's 
work, and do not exact an extravagant and almost 
prohibitory charge in respect of the higher passes. Six 
francs a day, for the number of days occupied, including 
the time necessary for the return journey to the place of 
starting, is the universal tariff ; and the guide considers 
himself amply repaid for a day of extraordinary fatigue 
by a bonnemain of two or three francs. Were the 
Allelein pass in the neighbourhood of Chamouni, the 
guides would probably demand at least thirty or forty 
francs apiece for the excursion. Here, it is considered 
libera], if you give fifteen. One guide for each traveller 

h 3 



154 



REMARKS. 



is needed, if there is much to carry ; if the traps are sent 
round by the valleys, two guides for three travellers, or 
perhaps one guide to two travellers would be sufficient ; 
but it is never well to be underhanded on these great 
glacier expeditions. All the best guides I have known 
have been opposed to such a course ; it is true, all may 
go perfectly well, and then so many are not wanted ; but 
if by auy chance bad weather should come on, or an 
accident happen, and any one need help, you can have 
no assistance, save what your own party can render, and 
if they are too few for the task, then, as an old guide 
once said to me in such a state of things, " que faire, 
Monsieur, dans ces montagnes ?" 



CHAPTEE VIII. 



THE PASSAGE OF THE FINDELEN GLACIER, OR 
COL IMSENG, FROM SAAS TO ZERMATT. 

So, to a steep and difficult descent 

Trusting ourselves, we wound from crag to crag, 

Where passage could be won. 

WORDSWORTH. 



PASS DISCOVERED BY THE CUKE — THE MATTMARKSEE — TAME 
CHAMOIS — A NIGHT IN THE HAY — ASCENT TO THE ALLELEIN 
GLACIER — FLOWERS — MAGNIFICENT PROSPECT — BEAUTIFUL 
CREVASSES — THE COL IMSENG — VEGETATION CLOSE TO THE 
SUMMIT — THE MONTE ROSA CHAIN — INTENSE COLD — FEARFUL 
DESCENT — THE CURE ON THE ROCKS — THE CURE AMONG THE 
CREVASSES — ANOTHER RACE — EFFECT OF A HARD DAY'S WORK. 

The year after the passage of the Allelein glacier, 
described in the last chapter, I again visited Saas, and 
was glad to find the cure as well and hale as ever. 
My friend H. was not with me, but I was accompanied by 
my brother, to whom, as well as to myself, the cure gave 
a most hearty .reception, going so far as even to kill a 
sheep specially for us, and set part of it on the table 



156 



THE COL IMSENG. 



within an hour after the poor thing was grazing on the 
mountain. We spent a day or two at Saas, making ex- 
cursions to the Tee-alp and the rocks of La Tete, and 
gratefully accepted the offer of the cure to be our guide 
over another of the great passes to Zermatt. The pass 
by which he now proposed to take us across the chain was 
almost a new one, which had been discovered by himself 
and the cure of Zermatt, in the course of an exploring 
expedition which they made, up to the head of the Findelen 
glacier, which descends into the valley of St. Nicholas, 
at a short distance above Zermatt. He told us that he had 
conducted Studer, the great German explorer of the 
Monte Rosa district, across this pass in the year 1849; 
but that he did not think it had been crossed since then 
by any one. He had himself made the attempt, a few 
days before, but although he had reached the summit 
of the pass, he had been unable to descend, on account 
of the bad state of the ice. He assured us that we 
should find ourselves well repaid by the grandeur of 
the scenery; and added that he hoped we should now 
be able to see the distant views, which the mists had 
hidden from us last year. We had crossed the Col 
du Geant four or five days before, and did not think 
we should find any place worse than some we had met 
with in that passage. Moreover, we had with us my 
tried friend Balmat, and Zachary Cachat, who had been 
with us since we passed the Col du Geant. Cachat, 
it may be remembered, had already made the passage 
of the Allelein glacier, the year before, as recorded 
in the last chapter. We thought, therefore, we could 
not have a better opportunity, and gladly made our 



WILD FLOWERS. 



157 



preparations for the passage of the Col Irnseng, as 
1 shall venture to call it, after the name of its discoverer. 
We resolved to shorten the day's work, this time, by 
sleeping at the chalets of the Mattmarksee, as it was 
earlier in the year, and we ran no risk of finding them 
dismantled. Accordingly, on Monday afternoon, the 29th 
August, 1853, we made ready for the journey, and started 
for the chalets about four o'clock. It had been showery 
all the day, and we had our misgivings as to the fate 
of the enterprise ; but the cure, after many careful in- 
vestigations of the sky, the winds and the mountain tops, 
told us to have no fear, as he was sure it would be fine 
on the morrow. We took the old, and now almost familiar, 
path to the foot of the Allelein glacier and the Matt- 
mark see, loitering somewhat by the way, to gather spe- 
cimens of the various beautiful wild flowers, of which 
there was a rich profusion, at this time of the year,* and 

* Most of the plants on the moraine of the Allelein glacier, and 
by the side of the Mattmarksee, were, as might be expected, of a 
hardy kind. The saxifrages and sedums appeared to be the most 
abundant. I found the most magnificent specimen of saxifraga, 
azoides (lesser mountains.) I have ever seen. The sedum rubens 
was abundant, and its delicate red blossoms showed prettily against 
the dark rock. Polygonum alpinum flourished well, and was in very 
full flower; saxifraga crustata was singularly beautiful, as also was 
the saxifraga cotyledon; saxifraga oppositifolia and silene acaidis 
were very small and dwarfed. I was surprised to find a very large 
specimen of centaurea pectinata close to the glacier. Botrychhm 
lunaria was fine. These can form only a very small portion of the 
flora; but though we walked gently, we could not stop long, 
and I had not time for a regular botanizing foray. 



158 



A TAME CHAMOIS. 



to notice the many interesting illustrations of glacier action, 
present and past, which this remarkable glacier presents. 
Here, as elsewhere in these valleys, the glacier appeared 
to have made a great advance, since my last visit ; and the 
earth was deeply furrowed and wrinkled, for some dis- 
tance in advance of it. I was greatly tempted to stray 
along the southern moraine, above the Mattinarksee, 
by the cure's assurance that I should there find the 
artemisia nana in flower, but we were already late, and 
were now obliged to push vigorously on. At the chalets at 
the head of the Mattmarksee, we found the people milking 
the goats, amongst which there was a young chamois, 
not quite so tame as they, but apparently in a fair way 
to become so. He would not descend from the roof of 
a chalet, where he had leaped up as soon as he saw us 
approaching; but he allowed us to touch his head, and 
took bits of food from our hands. They said that, at 
present, he had shown no desire to escape. 

The cure stopped behind at these chalets, to arrange 
some affairs, as he said ; but he had brought " the strong 
man of Saas 93 with him, to be his companion home from 
Zermatt ; and as it was getting dark, the strong man took 
a rough oil-lamp from the cure, and went with us to the 
highest chalets, which were rather more than half an 
hour's distance further up the mountain. They were 
situated in the ravine which runs up towards the Strahl- 
horn, and which is bounded by the precipices along the 
top of which our path had lain last year. It was quite 
dark before we reached the chalets, misty and rainy, with 
a sharp north wind which cut us to the very bones, and 
did not seem at all promising for the morrow. Unfor- 



QUARTERS FOR THE NIGHT. 



159 



tunately, the indifferent and unwholesome food at Saas 
had produced its natural effect on my brother, who was 
so poorly from indigestion, that he hardly knew whether 
he would be able to get on. The rocks we found to be 
very highly polished by ancient glacier action, and one 
was so much scored with the characteristic striee which 
indicate the passage of a glacier over the spot, that, dark 
as it was, they were clearly distinguishable. 

We reached tbe chalet about eight o'clock, and found 
it to consist of a large room, built of loose stones, with 
no windows or chimney, but abundantly furnished with 
all the utensils and appurtenances of chalet life. The 
hay was in a separate building of the same character, 
a few paces off, and the cure had warranted it clean and 
sweet. There was no one in the chalet when we arrived, 
but the guides struck a light, lit the lamp, kindled a fire, 
and proceeded to dry our boots and socks, which were 
wet through; to clean pans, boil water, toast bread, 
and make all sorts of preparations. Presently, the cure 
came up, with the old man to whom the chalets belonged, 
and who was to accompany us next day to the top of 
the pass, and help us down, and then come back by him- 
self. We now found out what the cure meant by stopping 
" to arrange some affairs." He had waited for the goats 
to be milked, and, with characteristic hospitality, had 
himself carried up from below two good-sized pails of 
goat's milk for our supper and breakfast. 

We made a most picturesque group round the fire, in 
the dim, smoky light; for there were no candles — only the 
fire, the flickering oil4amp, and, occasionally, when more 
light was needed, to seek for something we wanted, a splinter 



160 



MAKING TEA. 



of dry pine wood cut from the store which the tenants of the 
chalet had gathered together and piled in a corner. "We 
saw hung on the beams which tied together the rafters 
supporting the roof, a goodly array of bright pans and pots, 
and, on a sort of stage which occupied the further end of 
the room, were piled a number of cheeses ; but we could 
see little more of the contents of the chalet. We had brought 
up some tea, but no tea-pot, and, therefore, had to boil tea 
and water together in an open pan, at least a foot across ; 
and we drank it out of two tin cups we found, which then 
served for the milk and coffee of the rest, who did not care 
for tea. It was astonishing what a good article was 
manufactured with such an unpromising apparatus. We 
had no butter, but the cheese of our host of the chalet proved 
excellent, and I made a thoroughly good meal, and enjoyed 
the manner of it, heartily. My brother continued very 
unwell, and indeed got worse ; so that he unwillingly made 
up his mind to go back next morning, and rejoin some 
friends whom he had quitted to accompany me ; and we 
were all obliged to own the resolution a wise one. 

We were soon ready for bed — that is, for hay — and 
retired to the barn where that article was stored. It was a 
low, oblong building, with no other apertures than the 
door- way and the crannies between the rough stones of 
which it was built. There were plenty of these, and no 
fear of insufficient ventilation. The keen north wind 
soughed and whistled through them with a mournful 
sound ; the night was misty and the rain was falling, but 
the cure was still confident as to the morrow, and we tried 
as hard as we could to believe he would be right, and pre- 
pared for sleep. The guides shook down a quantity of 



A NIGHT IN THE HAY. 



161 



hay, and put a sheet over it ; then they stuffed a pillow-case 
with hay, and thus made up no despicable bed. We lay 
upon this, and then they put another sheet over us, and 
covered that well with hay ; we tied our handkerchiefs over 
our heads, to keep off the wind, and were as warm and 
comfortable as we could wish. The little oil-lamp was 
taken away, and we were left in the dark. It was a strange 
situation, but not by any means a bad one, and I have 
seldom slept more soundly or peacefully than in the chalets 
of the Mattmarksee. I was just dozing off, wheD the rest 
came to bed, which they did very quietly, each creeping 
gently to his portion of hay and burrowing well into it ; 
and then all was as still as death itself, except the whistling 
of the wind through the holes between the stones. 

We all slept very well till early in the morning of 
Tuesday, 30th of August, when the first thing I was con- 
scious of was a rustling of the hay at some little distance 
from me, and presently the door of the hut creaked, and 
I saw the brawny, thick-set figure of the cure standing out 
against the sky, and looking gigantic in the dim twilight. 
Then I saw another stalwart form, likewise cut out against 
the sky behind, and heard a short consultation in a low 
voice outside. I suppose it was too early to get up, for two 
elephantine figures again displayed themselves in the open 
doorway, and stole with noiseless step up the barn. It 
seemed as if two ruffians were coming to cut one's throat, 
and one of them nestled somewhere very near to us, for I 
heard his stealthy tread among the hay close by, succeeded 
by a gentle burrowing, as he rolled himself into a warm 
hole. Then I slept for some time longer, and when I looked 
up again, the sky was a trifle lighter, and a succession of 



162 



A NIGHT IN THE HAY. 



black giants were turning out of the barn : this time they 
left the door open, and did not come back, which told me 
that all was right, and we were to make a start. Presently I 
heard the crackling of a fire in the neighbouring chalet, and 
the cheerful voice of the cure', as he busied himself about all 
manner of preparations for our comfort. It was half an 
hour or more before Balmat returned, with the little oil- 
lamp, by which we made a hasty toilette, after a good wash 
in a rivulet close to the barn, and in a few minutes were 
in the chalet, w r arming ourselves by the wood fire. It was 
a cold sharp morning ; the thermometer stood at 4° centi- 
grade, (about 39° Fahrenheit) and there were mists about, 
but not thick or threatening mists, and every one pronounced 
that they would soon roll away, and the cure's prophecy of 
a fine day be verified. The stars shone with great 
brilliancy, and seemed nearer to us than usual — appearances 
which Balmat told me he had often noticed at great heights. 

My brother was still unwell ; and, to our great regret, 
w r e had to part. After a slight breakfast, he set off down 
the mountain, accompanied by the strong man of Saas, 
who went with him as far as the Mattmarksee, while I 
prepared myself for the day's work by a vigorous attack 
upon the bread, coffee and cheese. The combination was 
not quite en regie for a breakfast, or any other specific 
meal ; but I have made many a worse. 

We were to have started by half-past three ; but these 
Saas people are always behind-hand (it is a bad habit 
they have) and the preparations were not completed till a 
quarter to five — to my great regret, as I knew well how 
very much depends, in these mountain excursions, upon 
being early on the move. 



ASCENT TO THE GLACIER. 



163 



I have described, in the last chapter, how, the year 
before, we mounted to the upper part of the Allelein 
glacier, and made our first halt at a place where some 
black rocks crop out above the surface of the snow. 
This point was the first stage in to-day's journey 
also ; but we reached it by a somewhat different route. 
For a long way, it was exactly the same : and I was both 
surprised and pleased at the vividness with which I re- 
membered every spot and every incident in last year's 
expedition. I recognized, at once, the place where we had 
first come upon the snow : there was now no snow for 
nearly a couple of thousand feet higher. I was able to 
point out to Balmat the exact spot where I had had a bad 
slip the year before, which there was now no danger of my 
repeating. It is amazing how much difference the snow 
makes ; the path which we all felt to be dangerous last 
year is, without the snow, perfectly safe, and even easy, 
though it winds near the brink of a precipice. About 
three quarters of an hour after starting, Balmat's eagle 
eye detected my brother — a grey speck by the side of the 
Mattmarksee— he was now alone, for the strongman of Saas 
had rejoined us some time ago. We found by the telescope 
that it was he, and that he was getting fast over the ground, 
and we, therefore, indulged the hope that he would be all 
right again, as soon as he got into the land of better bread. 
When we came to the point where, last year, we had turned 
sharp to the right, up a steep slope of snow, the cure asked 
me whether I would go the same way again, and revisit that 
part of the glacier, or keep straight on towards the head 
of the ravine, by doing which we should save some time. 
I was anxious to be as early as possible at the top ; for 



164 



WILD FLOWERS. 



I wanted not to miss the fine distant view, about which 
certain mists on the side of Piedmont made me very uneasy,, 
and gave my voice for the shorter course. Besides, the 
way was new, and I was continually gathering the most 
beautiful flowers — many, which I had not found before. The 
forget-me-nots surpassed those of every other spot I have 
visited ; and among them grew large patches of androsace 
obtusifolia, whose clear white flowers looked like a forget- 
me-not of the glaciers. This beautiful flower is to be 
found in abundance on the Fee-alp ; but these are the 
only two places in whicli I have met with it, though I have 
little doubt it grows in many similar situations. The 
veronica alpina grew freely ; geum montanum, of course, 
everywhere about. I found also the common kidney-vetch 
(anthyllis vulneraria) at a greater elevation than I should 
have expected. As we mounted, we came upon some very 
beautiful specimens of saxifraga oppositifolia, saocifraga 
stellaris, with its beautifully-dotted petals, and the slender 
myosotis ctespitosa; and upon the most magnificent patches 
of myosotis nana that I ever saw. It almost ceased to be 
a dwarf ; and the mountain side was, in places, of a rich and 
brilliant blue, from the profusion of its flowers. In the 
same region, we found the little campanula cenisia, the 
milk-white cerastium latifolium, the beautiful ranunculus 
glacialis, with its warm coating of down on the calyx, and 
whiter than usual. 

It was interesting to observe the plants and flowers 
getting gradually smaller and more dwarfed, as we ascended. 
We found the same forget-me-nots, and the same saxifrages, 
but with gradually lessening stalks, till the flowers seemed 
crouched on the leaves, the colours all the while growing 



MARMOTS. 



165 



brighter, and clearer, and fresher. There were fewer 
gentians than I expected ; and I did not see any of the 
rarer varieties. This seems to be a great resort of the 
marmot. We saw innnmerable traces of them • and we 
started one fellow so near, that, had we had breath to spare 
for a good ran, I think we might have caught him ; for 
they are not nimble animals. 

Balmat, as usual, went grubbing about everywhere for 
stones, flowers, or anything else he could pick up. He 
found, amongst other things, some stone rich in copper ore, 
some dolomite, some serpentine, and many beautiful wild 
flowers. No matter how hard the day's work might be, I 
never knew Balmat's interest to flag. He was always 
looking about here, there, and everywhere ; and nothing 
escaped his quick eye. This made him a profitable com- 
panion, in more ways than one ; for emulation kept me up 
to the mark myself, more than anything else would have 
done. Balmat'' s knowledge is so considerable on many 
scientific subjects, and especially in all that relates to the 
structure and action of the glaciers, that one can seldom 
be long in his society without learning something ; and he 
has so much intelligence, good feeling and good breeding, 
combined with such genuine and unaffected modesty, that 
he is always an instructive and agreeable companion. 

The view, as we scrambled along the rocks and over the 
scanty herbage, was just as I have described it in the last 
chapter. As we mounted rapidly, and neared the snow, we 
had the pleasure of observing, each time we looked back, 
that we were rising sensibly higher above the mountains on 
the opposite side of the valley of Saas, which separate that 
valley from the Simplon; but, as yet, we did not see 



166 



MAGNIFICENT PANORAMA. 



beyond their dark masses mingled with dazzling slopes of 
snow and glacier. At length, we were getting qnite near 
to the base of the Strahlhorn, and the cure pointed out to 
us where, the year before, we had seen a very fine 
avalanche fall. We were close to the snow, and at last 
turned sharply to the right, when a few yards of exceed- 
ingly steep and slippery ascent brought us to what proved 
to be the summit of the first swell of snow we had ascended 
from the opposite side, the previous year. The cure had 
hit upon the spot with wonderful precision. And 
here, burst upon us in a moment a scene of such in- 
conceivable extent and magnificence, as to beggar all 
description. 

Opposite to us, we behold the frowning precipices of the 
Alleieinhorn, towering abruptly above the glacier. Then 
comes the wide, glittering expanse of the Eee, partly hidden 
by the chain of rugged heights which form the boundary 
wall of the Allelein glacier, and guarded by the majestic 
range of the Mischabel, whose black crags contrast finely 
with the broad fields of white in front. Further to the 
right, at a distance of thirty or forty miles, but apparently 
quite near, the whole range of Oberland lies unfolded to 
the view. The ALtels, the Doldenhorn, the Blumhs Alp, 
the Breithorn, the Jungfrau, the Monch, Eiger, Einster 
Aarhorn, Shreckhorn, Wetterhorn display themselves in 
one glorious line of mingled precipice and glacier. Not a 
cloud between us and them, save one delicate wreath of 
vapour, which floats about half way between the base and 
the summit of the Jungfrau, and serves only to show the 
gigantic proportions of the masses we are gazing upon. 
Viewed from the south, all seems new, except the familiar 



MAGNIFICENT PANORAMA. 



167 



needle-like peaks of the Ilnster Aarhorn and the Shreck- 
horn. In the transparent atmosphere of this brilliant 
morning, distance is almost annihilated, and every glacier, 
every rock, every hollow and every gnlly lies clearly and 
distinctly revealed to us. This time, there is no concealment, 
no reserve, no mist, no disappointment. 

It is difficult to turn from such a scene, but it is only a 
part of the glorious panorama ; and still more impressive 
and solemn, from the dimness of distance, are the colossal 
forms of the mountains of the Tyrol. In massive groupes 
they rise, one behind another, till the eye rests at length 
upon the gigantic Ortler Spitz, which lifts its white head to 
the height 14,000 feet, and whose bright glaciers, distant 
as far as Skiddaw from Snowdon, or as London from the 
Malvern Hills, shine like polished mirrors in the morning 
sun. 

South of these, clad in a light blue haze which gives 
an indescribable charm to them, while it scarcely robs 
them of any of their distinctness, are the mountain chains 
which border on the lakes of Italy, from those by the Lake 
of Como in the far east, to the nearer groupe which shuts in 
the head of the Lago Maggiore. ~No words can express 
the beauty of these mountains as they lie clothed with an 
atmosphere of blue, and showing chain behind chain, in all 
the exquisite gradations of distance. Next should have 
come the lakes and plains of Italy, but here, alas ! fortune 
was still unpropitious, and a thin veil of delicate mist, 
beautiful in itself, concealed the smiling prospect. But 
we could see exactly where they lay, and it was no 
difficult task for the imagination to picture them, with 
their pleasant alternations of shining waters and fertile 



168 



MAGNIFICENT PANORAMA. 



tracts of land, losing themselves, towards the south-east, 
in the vagueness of mere distance. Between them and 
us, and further towards the south-east and south, are the 
fine masses of unbroken dazzling glaciers, that I have 
spoken of before ; and further to the south again, nearly 
the whole of the eastern side of the Monte Rosa chain is 
before us — so near, that every minute feature of each of its 
component heights and glaciers is distinctly visible. We 
are already as high as the Weiss Thor, though from this 
point, the projecting masses of the Strahlhorn hide the pass 
itself from the view. 

For some minutes, hardly a sound was uttered, except an 
occasional exclamation of irrepressible wonder and admira- 
tion j I believe we were all impressed with a feeling akin 
to awe, at the vastness and sublimity of the prospect. 
The cure enjoyed it as much as anybody, and was well 
pleased to have such enthusiastic admirers of the scenery 
to which he took so much delight in introducing us. We 
thought of my brother, trudging down the valley to Stalden, 
and sighed to think what he had missed. 

We stopped a full half hour here, gazing on a view 
from which it was difficult to tear ourselves away, and then 
descended a short distance to the rocks on which we had 
breakfasted, last year, and which we again made the scene 
of a hearty and a merry meal. Here Balmat screwed into 
my boots four small double-headed pieces of iron, of which 
we had provided ourselves with a stock at Chamouni, and. 
the guides did the same with their boots ; a precaution which 
proved of good service, later in the day. These implements 
are a great assistance in ascending or descending banks of 
hardened snow, or slopes of ice, and are far easier to 



ICE PRECIPICES. 



169 



manage than crampons, which are apt to embarrass 
and trip up those who are not accustomed to use them. 

It was half past eight when we continued our journey, 
and for some time it was exactly the same as our track, the 
year before. We made for the high rock which juts up 
from the middle of the ice, but the crevasse which springs 
from it was not so curious or beautiful this year as the 
last. The precipice of ice under which we had passed, when 
mounting the last slope of the Allelein glacier, was likewise 
far less beautiful ; nor was it so covered with pendants of 
ice. I noticed the same difference, the following day, in 
some ice-precipices near the Hornli ; nor is it difficult to 
account for. There had been, when we were making the 
passage of the Col Imseng, no snow to speak of, for two 
months ; and it is the drippings from the soft and fresh 
snow, which melts readily, that form these beautiful and 
striking objects, which themselves disappear beneath the 
action of the sun, if their waste is not continually supplied. 
The previous year, there had been a great deal of wet 
weather for weeks before we crossed the glacier. 

At this rock, which forms a most conspicuous and useful 
finger-post, we diverged from our last year's course • and 
instead of descending into the hollow of the glacier, turned 
to the left, and began a long and steep ascent up the 
snows of the Strahlhorn, which rose immediately above our 
path. Here we found very pleasant walking, as the sun 
was not hot, nor beating directly on the slopes we were 
mounting, and there was a gentle and refreshing breeze. 
In some of the more exposed spots, however, we could see 
that there was a strong wind, blowing up little clouds 

I 



170 



BEAUTIFUL CREVASSES. 



and whirlwinds of dry snow. The appearances presented 
by some of the blocks of ice and dark, deep blue 
crevasses of the higher parts of the Strahlhorn, which were 
still in the shade, or jnst tipped with a narrow band 
of glistening sunlight, was of extraordinary wildness and 
beauty. Many of the crevasses on the glacier we were 
ascending were also of wonderful beauty ; we strayed out 
of our way to gaze into some of them, which were only to 
be approached with caution, as the ice nearly met on 
either side, and disclosed beneath dark blue caverns, of 
fathomless depth, with long pendants of lustrous ice 
fringing the sides, and hanging in fantastic groups from 
the translucent roof. As the sun shone down into some of 
them, or forced his way, in delicate floods of pale green 
light, through the overhanging domes of ice, the scene 
seemed to belong rather to fairyland than to reality. 

The Col, for which we were making our way, is a very 
narrow ridge, not many yards wide, guarded on the left by 
the Strahlhorn, and on the right by the Eympsischhorn, 
which rises above it in a sheer precipice, for many hundreds 
of feet — a dark crag scarcely specked with one spot of 
snow. The Strahlhorn is sufficiently steep, but it might 
well be climbed on this side; had we felt that we had a 
couple of hours to spare, we should probably have 
attempted it; the question was discussed, but the cure 
said we had yet to descend to the Imdelen glacier, and he 
could not tell how long that would take us. I have heard 
from travellers who have taken this pass since we did, and 
who, finding the descent in a better state, had time to 
ascend the Strahlhorn, that the panorama from its summit 



TOP OF THE COL. 171 

is well worth the extra climb,* which, as we anticipated, 
does not present any serions difficulty. 

On reaching the crest of the Col, another scene of sur- 
passing beauty came suddenly into view. We looked down 
into the vast basin which forms the western side of the 
Monte Eosa chain. Monte Rosa was on our left, all 
his peaks standing boldly out against the deep azure of 
the cloudless sky. We were ourselves between 13,000 
and 14,000 feet high, so that he did not seem very far 
above us. Prom where we stood to Monte Eosa, and 
again, from Monte Eosa to the Matterhorn, is one vast 
amphitheatre of precipitous summits, connected by long lines 
of glacier, such as I have never seen before or since. 
Opposite to us was the amazing peak of the Matterhorn, 
an object which never failed to fill me with astonishment 
and awe, whenever my eye rested upon its towering form. 
A line from the Eympsischhorn, which flanked our Col, 
to the Matterhorn, would have made the diameter of a 
semicircle which was marked by the several peaks of the 
Strahlhorn, the Cima de Jazzi, Monte Eosa, the Lyskamm 
— the finest precipice I have ever seen, some four or five 
thousand feet of sheer descent, flecked with the most ex- 
quisite net-work of snowy deposit — the twin peaks of the 
Zwillinge, (often called Castor and Pollux) the dark and 
frowning crags of the Breithorn, and the little Mont 
Cervin, all of whose immense glaciers pour down into the 
great basin below, filling it with such a mass of ice, such 

* Balmat repeatedly declared that, judging from the successive 
views we had, which would be all included in the view from the 
Strahlhorn, it must far exceed in interest the prospect from the 
summit of Mont Blanc. 

I 2 



172 



VIEW FROM THE SUMMIT. 



an extent of snow, such inconceivable varieties of glacier 
scenery, as are no where else to be witnessed. The pre- 
cipices of the Bympsischhorn are prolonged, on the right, 
towards the centre of the amphitheatre; and one great 
ridge of rock and glacier sweeps fairly from the heart 
of Monte Eosa himself into the valley of St. Nicholas 
below; so that the whole of this vast glacier system is 
ultimately forced into two great streams. The largest, 
the Gorner Gletscher, which pours down from the inmost 
recesses of Monte Eosa, and receives all the tributaries 
of the rest of the chain, up to the Matterhorn, is, I 
believe, the longest glacier in Switzerland. The other, 
which terminates in the Findelen glacier, lay immediately 
beneath us, and is nourished by all the glacier surface be- 
tween the Eympsischhorn and Monte Eosa. 

It will give some idea of the height of this pass, 
when it is mentioned that we fairly looked down upon 
the summit of the St. Theodule pass, itself between 
eleven and twelve thousand feet high. Over it, and 
beyond it, we saw many of the Piedmontese Alps : the 
shoulder of the Eympsischhorn, however, prevented our 
seeing as far westward as Mont Blanc. Not one of us 
felt the rarity of the air in the least. From some 
unexplained cause, the rarefaction of the air, at great 
heights, is less felt about Monte Eosa than in the neigh- 
bourhood of Mont Blanc. I believe the fact is familiar 
to many of the Chamouni guides, who travel among 
other localities more frequently than the guides of 
Switzerland; and I have observed it in my own case. 
We were in the highest health and spirits, and had 
reached the top of the pass absolutely without fatigue ; 



TEMPERATURE. 



173 



and we realized the cure's exclamation, when from below 
he was pointing to the mountain tops, and said, while 
his eye fired up like lightning, " Oh ! nous serons gais 
la-haut." 

The actual Col is bounded on the left by a small patch 
of bare rock, against which we made a halt, while Balmat 
and the cure advanced to the edge to reconnoitre the 
descent. It was a sight which might well shake nerves 
not accustomed in some degree to the difficulties and 
dangers of the glaciers. There was a steep and narrow 
slope, not of snow, but of bare, hard ice, having an 
inclination of at least 60°, lying in a hollow, between the 
rocky wall of the Rympsischhorn, and a projecting part 
of the Strahlhorn ; it was unbroken, for about three hun- 
dred feet, by anything but a small outcropping of rock, 
a few feet below the top, the slope of which was about the 
same as that of the glacier, and which was so smooth and 
even, that it looked more hopeless than the ice itself. 
There were some little fragments of rock, which made a 
kind of stepping-stones from the top of the Col to this 
place ; and down these we must begin our descent. 

The wind blew up this gully with the force of a hurri- 
cane, and with icy coldness. It had been pleasant during 
the ascent, but here, in a spot sheltered from the wind, 
the mercury, which a few seconds before had marked 
50°, sank at once to 34°; and when you were in the 
wind, the cold was intense. Balmat advised some brandy 
all round, before going down, and recommended me to 
keep behind' the rocks as long as I could. He lent 
me a red comforter he had in his knapsack. I tied my 
handkerchief over my hat, to keep it on, and to keep me 



174 



COLD BLAST. 



warm, put on my gloves and muifitees, pulled off my veil 
and spectacles, (for, notwithstanding the glare, it was no 
undertaking to enter upon without one's full powers of 
vision) and sat down quietly behind the rock, till I should 
be summoned to move forward. We found flies and butter- 
flies which had strayed even to this height, and which would 
inevitably pay with their lives the forfeit of their temerity. 
Of course, we did not meet with many ; but on this, as 
on every other glacier pass I have made, we found some. 
On the rocks at the very summit of the Col, I picked up 
an eagle's feather — no inappropriate memento of such a 
spot. 

The descent was a long one : when Balmat called out 
to me, I came forth from my hiding place, and encountered 
for the first time the full fury of the blast — the most 
piercing I ever felt. In about five minutes, my hands 
and feet were perfectly numbed, and I stood on a little 
ledge of rock, hopping about like a dancing bear, in the 
hope of keeping in a little life. Cachat was hewing steps 
in the ice, some thirty or forty feet below, and said he had 
no feeling in his hands ; every fragment that he hewed out 
was blown upwards, into our faces. Balmat was standing 
on a safe place, holding the rope which Cachat had tied 
round his waist, and Cachat was making a passage, across 
the slope of ice, to a horrible little gully beneath the rock 
and the glacier, with a smooth slab of the Kympsischhorn 
projecting over the place by which it would be necessary 
to descend. Here he made some tolerable steps, and a 
few feet below was a ledge of rocks, on which there was 
room for us to stand. I went down as far as I could, past 
Balmat, towards the steps in the ice, the cure, who was 



A PLEASANT DESCENT. 175 

voted a " veritable diable" on the rocks, and can hang on 
by his eyelids, following and holding my rope. Then 
came the strong man of Saas, holding the cure's rope, and 
the old man of the chalet, who was to go back from this 
point, remained at the top, holding the strong man's rope. 
When Cachat's steps were completed, he held one end of 
his rope and Balmat the other, so as to make a sort of 
bannister by the side of the steps. Cachat, however, had 
descended to the ledge of rocks by the side of the glacier, 
so that when you-got near to the gully, and went, as it were, 
into the corner, the bannister was necessarily slack, and 
afforded only protection in case of a slip, but not present 
aid. The strong man of Saas went first ; then I crossed, 
and I must confess found it nervous work, and the rocks 
particularly unpleasant. The pointed irons in the soles 
of the boots were of great service here. In passing 
under the slab which overhung the gully, we had to lean 
backwards, till we were nearly full length upon the 
glacier. At length I reached the ledge of rocks in safety : 
then came the cure, and lastly Balmat, who had transferred 
the rope the old man held, from the strong man to himself, 
when we began to cross the slope. The old man descended 
to the rocks where Balmat had stood, and stayed there to 
hold the ropes for some time longer. Fortunately, the 
cure had taken care to provide us with above a hundred 
feet of rope, and we had a great ice-hatchet, which we had 
procured at Chamouni, for the passage of the Col du Geant. 
"Without the hatchet and the ropes, we could never have 
accomplished the descent. For a few feet, we could now 
scramble down by the help of the rock. Then came a 
smooth slab of rock, with an ugly long step on the further 



176 



WHAT XEXT? 



side. The Chamouni men did not like it, and set to work 
on the ice again, and cut a set of zig-zag steps, round the 
rock which, projected into the glacier — a work which 
occupied some time. It was bitterly cold, though not 
so cold as above. Meanwhile, the cure scrambled down 
the slab of rock — Heaven only knows how — and I, being 
securely tied, thought I would do the same. I got down 
a foot or two, my face to the rock, and then found it 
perfectly smooth and slippery for some feet, and I could 
not tell what might be below ; so I called out to the 
strong man, who lowered me gently, depending on the rope 
alone, over the slab (which I found about four or five feet 
high on the other side) and I landed just where Cachat 
and Balmat had brought the steps to. The strong man 
came down like the cure ; all these Saas men are better at 
rock- work than at ice-work. Prom this point, we could 
again scramble down a few paces, and then came a broadish 
ledge, or set of ledges, of rock, where there was room for 
us all. And now, steps had to be cut in the ice, for fifty 
or sixty feet ; this was a long business, though there was 
here a little frozen snow on the surface of the glacier, 
which made it rather easier than it had been. At the 
foot of the slope was a crevasse, three or four feet wide, 
and no one could tell how deep — what the Germans call 
a Bergschrund — such as is always found at the bottom of 
an arete like this, where the inclination of the glacier 
becomes more moderate. Beyond the crevasse was 
tolerable walking, but it was still some two hundred feet 
off, and many a score of steps must be cut, before we 
could reach it. Fortunately, on this ledge it was pretty 
warm, and as the view was of extraordinary magnificence, 



LOOK OUT FOR YOURSELF ! 



177 



the waiting was not unpleasant. The cure turned some 
difficult rocks, a little lower down ; but even he could get 
no farther in that direction, and was obliged to come 
back. 

The strong man of Saas is at work forty feet below, 
cutting steps in the ice ; Balinat and Cachat are holding 
him up, in case of a slip, with a long rope. I am luxuriating 
in the wildness of the scene, and the picturesque appearance 
of our groupe ; the old man has let go his rope, and, after 
watching us awhile, is waving his last adieu, and clamber- 
ing up the rocks — a far less difficult task than to go down 
them — to take his solitary way homewards, along the track 
pointed out by our footsteps. Let us stop one moment to 
look at the cure as he comes round the corner, back again 
to our resting-place, peering about everywhere, to try and 
find some practicable passage among the rocks. 

First comes his head — a square, weather-beaten, strong, 
intelligent face, spectacles on his eyes (for he is very short- 
sighted) his head surmounted by a rough, low-crowned, 
tapering, broad-brimmed hat, like what a Staffordshire 
bargeman often wears. Then come his broad, brawny 
shoulders, just the least bit bent with the weight of three 
score active years ; but now, more rounded by what he is 
engaged upon, for he is looking anxiously about, peeping 
over here and down there, gazing with cat-like feelings at 
every straight wall of rock, and longing to venture down 
its face. Balmat has given him several warnings that he 
will send down loose stones on the strong man's head and 
kill him, but he is so intent upon finding a passage that he 
takes no heed of Balmat's admonitions, and the strong 
man must look out for himself and trust in Providence, for 

i 3 



178 



GONE ! 



the curd will not help him, and the stones continue to 
roll past him, as he toils on the stubborn ice. A knapsack 
is strapped on his hardy back ; for while the men are 
engaged in this difficult work, he will carry it, despite 
Balmat's urgent remonstrances and my entreaties. He 
wears to-day his oldest coat, a priest's coat, reaching down 
to his heels, patched in places innumerable, threadbare, and 
so shiny that he might use it for a looking-glass, to shave 
by. He has tied the tails up in front with a cotton hand- 
kerchief, and discloses a wondrous fabric. It once was 
velvet ; but what with darns, patches and rents, it is im- 
possible to say whether thread, cloth, or velvet predominates 
now. 

Whatever be its substance, it is tied at the knees — 
and now torn at the knees, and torn behind, too, for the 
matter of that ; for to-day has been a day of trial for newer 
garments than those which the cure has wisely donned for 
this expedition, and our scrambling does not suit their 
antiquity. A pair of legs which many a younger man 
might envy, firm-set, sturdy, and straight as an arrow, are 
encased, below the knees, in stout and coarse brown worsted 
stockings, on his feet he wears a pair of shoes, well hob- 
nailed, as broad and flat as platters, and no doubt com- 
fortable enough. He has in his hand a heavy pole of ash, 
seven or eight feet long. What do I say ? has it in his 
hand ? He had, a minute ago, but it has slipped, and I hear 
it shooting down far below, striking against the rocks as it 
falls, and Balmat looks over a precipice, and says it is stick- 
ing upright in the snow, in a place where we shall be able 
to get it again. So much the better : a mountaineer leaving 
his alpenstock among the mountains feels like a soldier 



" PER NIVES ET RUPES." 



179 



leaving his musket on the field, and would, at any time, run 
considerable risks to recover it. 

The cure is a fine fellow ; his people love him, and we, who 
have experienced his genuine kindness and untiring hospi- 
tality, do not wonder that they do so ; we are all getting 
attached to him, and whenever he is mentioned, " c'est un 
brave homme," escapes from the lips of one or another. 

While we were loitering about here, the cure touched 
me on the shoulder, and, pointing to the crags above and 
the snows around, exclaimed in a tone which marked the 
genuine lover of nature, " per nives sempiternas et rupes 
tremendas !" It was a graceful quotation from the 
inscription on a snuff-box, of which my friend H. and I 
had begged his acceptance, as a memorial of our grateful 
sense of his kindness, on the occasion of our passage of the 
Allelein glacier, the year before.* I was surprised to find 
vegetation at so great a height. I gathered, at this halting 
place, by far the finest ranunculus alpestris that I ever saw. 
It was not only of unsual size, but was of a clear, brilliant 
white, far exceeding anything that one generally sees. 
This specimen, which I have still, measures, in its present 

* The inscription was as follows : — 

Reverendo patri Imseng, 
egregii ejns kospitii, 
itinerisqne longi, 
per nives sempiternas et rupes tremendas, 
eo duce tute confecti 
memores, 
hoc munusculum dedere 
Alfredus Wills et Ricardus Child Heath. 

MDCCCLIII. 



180 SAFER NOW. 

state, four inches and a half in height, and more than an 
inch across ; of course, if it had been measured when freshly 
pressed, and before it got dry, it would have been still 
wider. A few yards lower down, I found a fine specimen 
of ranunculus glacialis ; but it is a flower of very inferior 
beauty to the r. alpestris. I also found a piece of saocifraga 
androsacea. It is interesting as being what is very 
difficult to meet with, in less solitary places, perfect. It is 
a plant of which the marmot is so fond, that the leaves, 
flowers and stems are generally nibbled all round. Here, 
of course, the plant was quite safe from the visits of the 
marmot. The only animal likely to disturb it was man. 

After about half an hour on the rock, all was reported 
ready for another start, and we resumed our tackle and set 
off again. We all arrived, without accident, at the foot of 
this series of steps, after which we were able to make a good 
bit of descent by the rocks. Very thankful indeed were we, 
when we could get anything not worse than the descent of 
the Col du Geant, which a week ago had seemed to us 
about as bad as need be. Here, however, it was not so 
dangerous as it had been, since, as the cure observed, 
if any one did slip and fall on to the ice, he would 
probably descend with sufficient velocity to shoot over 
the crevasse, without going so fast as to be killed. At 
length, we were not many feet from the nearest part 
of the crevasse, and had but to cross it; this, however 
could only be done in one place, and a wide stretch of 
glacier must be traversed, to reach the spot. Steps had again 
to be cut, and more than half an hour was occupied in 
making them, during which I was basking in the sunshine, 
lying on a warm rock, and enjoying the noble prospect 



THE ALPENSTOCK RECOVERED. 



181 



before me. There was but one thing wanting, to have made 
the expedition complete ; namely, that my brother should 
have been able to be with us here, instead of toiling down 
the hot path to Yisp ; whither we supposed he would be 
about arriving by this time. 

I was surprised to see what hard work it was to cut steps. 
Tour or five appeared to be quite enough for one man at 
a time, and they relieved each other continually, till the 
whole way was completed, and we passed one by one along 
the steps. 

" Optata demum .... potiuntur arena ;" 

it seemed as if our difficulties were over ; but we had 
been three hours, and more, in coming from the top, which 
was scarcely a hundred yards above us. It was just ten 
o'clock, when we arrived at the crest of the Col ; and it 
was a quarter past one, before we were all across the narrow 
bridge which spanned the crevasse. Balmat's opinion as 
to the cure's alpenstock was correct : it was easily 
reached and brought back to its owner in triumph. 

The cure would have led us to the rocks on the right, 
again, after we had passed a short distance along the 
glacier ; but, as we should then have had to make a very 
long and tiresome scramble upwards, to gain the snow 
slopes which surmounted the rocks, and were strongly 
averse to " such a getting up-stairs/' we out- voted the cure 
on his own pass, and determined to traverse the centre of 
the glacier, much crevassed though it was, and descend as 
low as we could on the ice. To please the cure, however, 
who did not like the crevasses at all, we kept near 
the rocks, as long as possible, and then struck across to 



182 



ALMOST IN. 



the left, almost coming back again, to cross this arm 
of the glacier and get thence to the main body, of 
which this was but a tributary. 

Bold and experienced mountaineer as he was, the cure 
was certainly not so much at home among the crevasses 
as elsewhere; it was the only species of difficulty or 
danger which he seemed reluctant to encounter ; whereas 
Balmat, confident in his perfect theoretical and scientific 
knowledge of the glaciers, was always cool and at his 
ease, amongst the most apparently chaotic mazes of 
crevasses and chasms. Once, indeed, the cure, in his pre- 
cipitation, nearly pulled me into a deep and wide crevasse. 
There was a considerable interval between us ; and it 
often happened, from the irregularities of the glacier, that 
while one was ascending, another would be descending ; or 
that the slope which one man was passing over would be 
quite different from that which his neighbour was upon. 
Thus, we came at one time to a large crevasse, which there 
was no difficulty in jumping across, on the other side of 
which was a steep bank of snow. The cure', whom I 
followed, went flying over the crevasse, and slipped down 
the bank of snow. I could not keep pace with him ; and 
just as I was coming up to the crevasse, a violent jerk of 
the rope at my waist nearly threw me down ; and it was 
with the greatest difficulty that I saved myself from a 
plunge into, instead of a leap across, the chasm. With the 
numerous detours we were obliged to make among the 
great crevasses, six, eight, and ten feet wide, it took us an 
hour and a quarter to traverse this branch of the glacier. 

The cure was longing for his beloved rocks and loose 
stones; and the Saas man was muttering imprecations 



ICE VERSUS ROCK. 



183 



between his teeth on these yawning chasms, and on us who 
had brought him into the midst of them. I overheard 
him telling the cure that his father, who was a great 
chamois hunter, had given him repeated and earnest in- 
junctions not to imperil his life by venturing into such 
places. The rest of us were congratulating ourselves on 
having, any how, escaped the rocks. Balmat, whom I have 
always found nearly as much at home on a glacier he has 
never seen before, as on the Mer de Glace, or the Glacier 
des Bossons, led the way, and conducted us with unerring 
skill through the labyrinth of crevasses. About half-past 
two, we arrived at a huge black mass of slippery debris, 
and disintegrated rock, which abutted on the main arm of 
the glacier. Here, we sat down to dinner, which we had 
earned by six hours of no common labour and excitement ; 
and, it is needless to say, we made a cheerful and hearty 
meal. We finished up everything in our larder, except a 
little bread and cheese. Tor my part, I could have gladly 
demolished even those, but was forced, by very shame, 
to desist. There is no tonic to compare with the keen 
and hungry air of the glaciers. I found two beautiful 
little flowers growing in this desolate spot — a saxifraga 
oppositifolia, and an artemisia (sp..?) — both, very fresh and 
bright in their colours. 

At three o'clock, we resumed our march, and now 
proceeded by the main channel of the Eindelen glacier ; 
and as the crevasses compelled us to make many a 
detour, it was past five before we came to the part where it 
was necessary to quit the ice and take to the turf on the 
right. The vegetation was very bright and luxuriant — a 
pleasant sight, after so many hours upon the glacier. We 



184 



ANOTHER RACE. 



found great quantities of the astrantia minor ; the plant 
which is said to impart its peculiar flavour to the Chamouni 
honey. The brilliant flower of the ubiquitous geum shone 
like spots of gold amidst the luxuriant herbage. We had 
resumed our spectacles and veils, after passing the great 
crevasse at the head of the glacier ; and we still kept the 
spectacles on, by Balmat^s advice, as a measure of precaution, 
till, in about three-quarters of an hour, as we were Hearing 
the foot of the glacier, we met the lengthening shadows 
of the setting sun, cast upon us from the Gornergrat 
and the Hochthaligrat ; then, at last, we pulled off our 
spectacles, and had the pleasure of an uninterrupted view 
of the beautiful scenes around us. Still, not a cloud was 
visible, in the whole expanse of the blue and transparent 
sky. 

We descended very rapidly, till we came to a zig-zag 
path above the valley of St. Nicholas, when I reminded 
the cure, of the chase he had led us, last year, in des- 
cending upon Tasch, and challenging him to another race, 
started off full pelt down the steep mountain side, through 
a thick wood of larch and fir, with the whole train at my 
heels. We gave Cachat another warming, at which the 
cure again made himself merry ; and, after some hair- 
breadth escapes of severe falls, over stumps of trees and 
holes and blocks of stone, we all found ourselves in the 
valley in an incredibly short space of time. We came 
down many hundreds of feet, in almost as little time as it 
has taken to record it. We had still a pleasant stroll of 
a quarter of an hour over the meadows, and reached 
Zermatt comfortably at a little before seven, having 
occupied nine hours in the descent. 



REMARKS. 



185 



No better illustration can be given of the extent to 
which the difficulties and dangers of an Alpine pass depend 
upon the state of the snow and the weather, than was 
afforded by our passages of the Allelein glacier and of the 
Col Imseng. The risks of the approach to the Allelein 
glacier, which, in 1852, appeared formidable even to 
experienced guides, had all but vanished in 1853; the 
dangers often arising from hidden crevasses had no 
existence; the serious fatigue of traversing the broad 
wastes of glacier, two or three feet deep in fresh or sodden 
snow, was reduced to that which an ascent of many hours 
must in every case involve. 

On the other hand, the same cause made the descent 
from the summit of the Col much more difficult, as it 
deprived us of the facilities which a coating of snow, firmly 
frozen underneath, and soft at the top, would have 
afforded us. I have heard of persons who crossed in 
1855 descending the slope which cost us so much time 
and labour, in a quarter of an hour, and the cure said it 
was far worse than he had known it on former occasions. 
Still, for a pass of such magnitude, it was by no means a 
hard day's work. We had saved immensely, by sleeping at 
the chalets ; during the ascent, we never once needed to 
stop to draw breath ; and after a good wash and a change 
of linen, we were almost ready for a fresh start, the same 
evening. 

This, no doubt, was partly owing to the great enjoyment 
and pleasurable excitement of such a day ; we felt some of 
the effects more considerably the next day, and found — 
what we always knew to be a sure sign of latent fatigue — 
that our powers of observation were much impaired. I 



186 



DEAF. 



remember saying to Balmat, the next afternoon, while we 
were descending the valley of St. Nicholas, in a thunder- 
storm, " How is this ? I notice neither flowers, nor rocks, 
nor anything else to-day." "Ah, sir," said he, "I 
have often observed the same thing myself. Apres 
une grande course, on ne remarque pas beaucoup les 
objets." 

I thought, for a day or two afterwards, that Balmat spoke 
low and indistinctly, and I was obliged frequently to ask 
him to repeat what he had said. I taxed him with it, but 
he assured me the fault was mine — I was deaf — also 
not an unusual consequence of "grandes courses/' It 
happened several times, in 1852, that H. was deaf after 
long excursions, especially after tiring descents ; but I had 
never myself experieneed such a result before. 

It is difficult to say from which side this pass ought to 
be taken. If made from Zermatt, you would have the 
magnificent distant view of the Oberland and the Tyrol 
before your face during a considerable portion of the 
descent ; and the difficult slope of ice at the head of the 
Findelen glacier would undoubtedly be far more easily 
ascended than descended ; but you would be obliged to 
turn your back on the sublime amphitheatre of mountains, 
which stretches from the Matterhorn to the Eympsisch- 
horn — a scene which almost all travellers agree in pro- 
nouncing to be unequalled by any similar view among the 
Alps. We could have no hesitation which direction to 
prefer, as we knew that by visiting Saas first, we should 
probably secure the assistance of that skilful mountaineer, 
the cure, in any glacier expedition we might determine to 
undertake. Indeed, I doubt if at that time there was a 



EXPENSE. 



187 



man at Zermatt who could have acted as guide for that 
pass. In a state of the snow and ice such as we found, I 
doubt if the descent could have been accomplished by a 
party of less than four or five ; but, under ordinary circum- 
stances, the expense and the number of guides required 
for tins expedition are about the same as for the Allelein 
glacier, and the remarks in the last chapter on tins subject, 
will apply to the passage of the Pindelen, which ought, I 
think, in justice to the cure, to receive the title of the 
"Col Imseng." 



CHAPTER IX. 



THE HOCHTHALIGRAT AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD 
OF ZERMATT. 

Look all around ! beliold one boundless scene 
Of beauty, wildness and sublimity ! 

Elliott. 



THE RIFFELBERG AND ITS INN — THE HOCHTHALIGRAT — BEAUTY 

OF THE FLOWERS SUBLIME PROSPECT — MONTE ROSA — THE 

MATTERHORN — BERNESE CHAIN THE SCHWARZSEE — CURIOUS 

OPTICAL PHENOMENON — GLACIER OF ZMUTT — THE COL d'eRIN 

THE VAL D'ANNIVIERS — BARBARISM OF THE INHABITANTS. 

The neighbourhood of Zermatt abounds in interesting 
excursions, and many days might well be spent in exploring 
it. Eor a near view of glacier scenery, there is probably 
nothing in Switzerland to compare with the panoramas 
from the top of the Hochthaligrat and the Gornergrat, 
lofty ridges which penetrate into the very heart of Monte 
Rosa, and from which the spectator gazes upon a range 
of glacier, precipice and crag, the most gigantic and the 
most striking among the Alps. At present, facilities 
exist for the enjoyment of these sublime scenes, such as 



THE RIFFELBERG. 1S9 

are found in no other part of Switzerland ; for, on the 
ridge of the Eiffelberg, three or four thousand feet 
higher than Zermatt, and on a spot commanding a 
magnificent prospect of the Monte Eosa chain, a small 
hotel has been lately built, which for cleanliness and 
comfort, and for the civility and attention of the host, may 
challenge comparison with almost any inn amongst the 
High Alps. A steep but good mule path leads from 
Zermatt to Eiffelberg, and a pleasant reception, good fare, 
and clean though homely accommodation are sure to await 
the traveller on his arrival. It is often impossible to get 
taken in there for the night, unless the beds have been 
engaged beforehand, as a comfortable inn, in so splendid 
a situation, is sure to be thronged in fine weather. 

The Eiffelberg is the lower extremity of a ridge which 
attains its highest point in the Stockhorn, a snow-clad 
eminence which rises to a great height in the middle of the 
great basin of Monte Eosa, being nearly due North of 
Monte Eosa itself, and nearly due West of the Cima cle 
Jazzi. This ridge forms the northern boundary of the 
great Gorner glacier, and is the Avail which, on that side, 
confines the glacier within its channel. It rises always 
steeply and often precipitously above the glacier, and 
extends, East and West, for a distance of about six or eight 
miles. Just abore the Eiffelberg, it rises into a shaggy 
peak, called the Eiffelhorn, often said to be inaccessible, 
but probably only so because it is less worth climbing 
than the pointed ridges of the Gornergrat and the 
Hochthaligrat, which are also commanding eminences in 
the chain, lying to the East of the Eiffelhorn, and between 
it and the Stockhorn. In ascending from the Eiffelberg, 



190 



THE HOCHTHALI. 



you leave the Biffelhorn on your right, and mount, some- 
times over snow, but more often along a kind of hog's 
back of immense loose stones, the magnificence of the 
prospect increasing with every step of ascent. 

The same points may also be gained directly from 
Zermatt. by crossing the stream of the Findelen glacier, 
and mounting the ridge — which divides the Pindelen from 
the Gorner glacier — from the North side. H. and I 
climbed it, on this side, the day after we had crossed the 
Allelein glacier, in 1852. "We set out about ten, and 
fancying ourselves perfectly fresh, indulged in a very 
ambitious pace at first ; but when, after about an hour and 
a half s easy climb by a good path, we came to a stiff 
ascent over broken ground and loose stones, we began to 
recollect our sixteen hours' walk of the day before, and 
to find that our joints did not play quite so easily as 
usual ; and when we got into the wild hollow called the 
Hochthali, which lies cradled in the bosom of the moun- 
tain, at the foot of the ridge we were making for, we 
were not sorry that our friend, Mr. A., who was with us, 
was anxious to go very leisurely over the ground, and that 
by assisting him in his zealous search for myosotis nana, 
we could justify to ourselves the lazy pace which suited us 
best. "We succeeded, after a long quest, in finding some 
specimens in seed, which was what we were looking for.* 
After this, the clambering became excessively rough, over 

* It is very difficult to preserve this beautiful plant in England. 
It may be reared freely from seed, and grows up pretty well, and 
blooms the first year. But it pines for the fresh air of the mountains ; 
and our November fogs are fatal to it. A friend who resides in one 
of the highest parts of the Midland Counties, on the Cotswold Hills, 



THE HOCHTHALIGRAT. 



191 



enormous blocks of stone, intermingled with masses of 
smaller debris. While making our way over these, we 
saw, to our right, three figures cut out against the blue 
sky, passing along the ridge of the Gornergrat. They 
proved to be our companion of yesterday over the Alle- 
lein pass, I\, with some friends he had met at Zermatt. 
Passing over the blocks of rock, we came to a slope of 
snow, covering a similar collection of debris, which lasted 
for three quarters of an hour. It was steep, but compared 
with yesterday's work was nothing, and it brought us 
to the top of the Hochthaligrat, which is between ten and 
eleven thousand feet above the sea-level. The panorama 
was very perfect. Monte Eosa lay to the South-east, 
separated from us only by the Gorner glacier at our feet, 
and his peaks appeared within easy reach. In fact, they 
are but some nine or ten hours' walk from here. Monte 
Rosa appears, from this point of view, to consist of a 
great collection of conical summits, few of which are very 
steep, at least on most sides, and which present none of 

tells me he has only succeeded, the last winter, in keeping alive one 
sickly plant, which he fears will soon follow its companions. 

I have given, in an appendix, a list of many of the rarer plants which 
are found in the neighbourhood of Zermatt. It is one of the very 
richest botanical districts in Switzerland. I cannot forbear, however, 
not as a botanist, but as a lover of the picturesque, mentioning the 
extreme beauty of the wild flowers on the Hochthaligrat. On the 
higher parts, near the summit, the hardier gentians grow with remark- 
able beauty and brilliancy, and their deep blue contrasts pleasantly 
with the white snow close to which they are found. The delicate little 
mountain milk-vetch {pxytropus montand) also blooms almost in the 
snow ; lower down, the leontopodium alpinum, which, with its massive 
heads of downy blossoms, looks like a king among flowers, grows with 
remarkable profusion and vigour. It is one of the most beautiful of 
all Alpine plants. 



192 



MONTE ROSA. 



those fantastic and strangely irregular forms so often 
assumed by mountain tops. Above all the rest, however, 
juts up one rugged peak of rock, three or four hundred 
feet in height, on which the snow never lies, but which 
is often covered with a thin coating of the hardest and 
most slippery ice ; so that to ascend it must be a task 
of the utmost difficulty and danger, only to be performed 
by the hardiest mountaineers, and practicable only by 
cutting the ice, or breaking the rock at every step. At this 
time, the summit had never been attained, except by two 
guides, one of whom (Matthaus zum Taugwald) was with 
us on this occasion ; an account of whose ascent is given 
by Ulrich, in his interesting little book on "the Side- 
Valleys of Canton TVallis and Monte Rosa." Within the 
last two years, however, two or three successful attempts 
have been made. In 1854, as I was going up the valley 
of the Yisp, I met, near Stalden, three English gentle- 
men,* who had, a day or two before, accomplished this 
perilous feat, under the guidance of Ulrich Lauener of 
Lauterbrunnen, and who were the first travellers who 
ever gained that lofty peak. They told me the view 
was a panorama of the sublimest and most wonderful 
character. The summit was not large enough to contain 
the whole party at once, and on the side of Macugnaga 
the precipices were, as might well be supposed, terrible. 
They spoke of the descent of the peak as frightful. 
Subsequent attempts were made, and successfully made, 

* Messrs. Smyth, well known to Swiss travellers as most hardy 
and intrepid mountaineers, two of whom were of the party who, in 
1855, ascended Mont Blanc without guides ; an exploit of which a 
most modest and lively account has lately been published by the 
Rev. C. Hudson and Mr. Kennedy. 



THE MATTERHORN. 



193 



in which the peak was approached from a different direction, 
and the difficulties proved less formidable. 

To the right of Monte Eosa are the precipitous 
Lyskarmn, the fine twin peaks of Castor and Pollux, and 
the Little Mont Cervin, beneath which lies the pass of the 
St. Theodule. Here is a vast expanse of nearly level fields 
of ice and snow, crowning the swelling mass of pasture 
ground which rises above, and to the right of, the lower end 
of the Gorner glacier. The glacier itself, however, is 
hidden^ in this direction, by the snowy ridge of the Gorner- 
grat, the rugged summit of the Biffelhorn, and the 
mossy mound of the Riffelberg, over which shoots up 
high into the heavens, piercing the sky, the tremendous, 
indescribable peak of the Matterhorn, whose top is 
full five thousand feet above the enormous glaciers out 
of which it springs. On its sides, there is no great 
quantity of snow ; for the snow can only lie here and there 
on the ledges of the rocks. Beyond the Matterhorn, the 
Zmutt glacier, one of the most broken of those on the 
west side of the valley of St. Nicholas, overhangs the 
woods and green slopes beneath, and points out where a 
difficult and laborious passage may be effected, close under 
the Dent Blanche and the Tete Blanche, into the valley of 
Evolena. The mountains which run hence in one un- 
broken chain to the valley of the Shone, including the lofty 
peaks of the Eothhorn, the Weisshorn and the Bruneck- 
horn are not, with the exception of the Weisshorn, so lofty 
or so white as those on the eastern side of the valley, 
but between the precipitous summits of dark rock many 
glaciers pour down, and overhang the deep valley through 
which is cut the channel of the Yisp. Throughout this 



194 



MISTS. 



valley, however, none of the glaciers, except that of the 
Gorner, descend so far down the mountain-sides as in 
most other parts ; partly, no doubt, in consequence of the 
great steepness of their inclination. Prom the side of the 
"Weisshorn a few years back, a huge mass of glacier broke 
off, and descended with one fell swoop into the valley, 
doing immense damage in its destructive career. Between 
the two ranges which flank the valley of St. Nicholas, 
at the distance of nearly sixty miles, appears the great 
range of the Bernese Alps, from the Jungfrau east- 
wards. 

To complete the panorama, we saw, a little to the right 
of the upper Bothhorn, (a grassy mountain to the north of 
where we stood, and one of the finest points of view in the 
neighbourhood) the Alphubel, and the upper part of the 
glacier of Tasch — along which we could distinctly recognize 
the direction of our route the day before, and the very 
corner of rock where we had made our mid-day meal — the 
Bympsischhorn and the Strahlhorn. The Cima de Jazzi 
and the Monte Moro chain were covered by the much 
lower summit of the Stockhorn, which directly intervened, 

We lay long on the rocks which jutted out from the 
snow at the top of the Hochthaligrat, basking in the sun, 
and enjoying the wild magnificence of the scenery, over 
which, from time to time, was cast a delicate mantle of 
wreathing cloud, hanging now upon one part, now upon 
another, now suddenly tossed up by a gust from below, far 
above our horizon, now sinking low, obscuring all but 
some giant peak which rose like an island from a sea of 
foam, and presenting us with continually new and startling 
changes in the prospect. Instead of returning by the way 



THE SCHWARZSEE. 



195 



we came, we descended directly upon the Eindelen glacier, 
and following its course, reached, in about an hour and a 
half, the bridge by winch we had crossed the glacier torrent 
in the morning, whence an easy half hour, by the track 
we had taken to ascend, led us pleasantly across the 
meadows to Zermatt. Both in ascending and descending, 
we saw many traces of marmots, with which the pastures 
of the Hochthaligrat evidently abound. Frequently, 
we surprised the timid little animal feeding, or at play, 
upon the grassy slopes; and there certainly could be 
no difficulty in procuring an abundant supply, were the 
animal sufficiently appreciated to make it worth the 
hunter's while to engage in the chase. 

Another very interesting excursion from Zermatt is to the 
Schwarzsee, on the side of a spur of the Matterhorn, which 
runs from beneath the peak, towards the bottom of the 
Gorner glacier and the head of the valley of St. Nicholas. 
As far as Flatten, you follow the pleasant path which 
leads to the St. Theodule, then, diverging to the right, 
you clamber up a steep mountain of turf and rock. Two 
hours of easy ascent from Zermatt bring you to the little 
lake, or rather pond, which is dignified by the name of 
the Schwarzsee. It is a kind of tarn, of dark and dirty 
ice-cold water, the drainage of the glacier; but the 
interest of the excursion consists in the excellence of the 
spot as a point of view. You see, of course, the Monte 
Rosa group, from here as from the Hochthaligrat, but 
now from a point in the circumference, instead of from 
the centre of the circle. Some friends of mine who visited 
this spot on the 9th September 1854, witnessed, on the 
ascent, a very beautiful and unusual phenomenon. The 

k 2 



196 



CURIOUS PHENOMENON. 



lower part of the valley of Zmutt was filled by great beds 
of feathery mist, and gazing down upon these, about nine 
in the morning, with the sun at their backs, each spectator 
beheld his own shadow on the mist, surrounded — framed 
as it were — by a perfect circle of rainbow, the prismatic 
colours being very bright and distinct. 

By ascending about an hour and a half more, first, up a 
steep slope of stunted herbage, then, over the moraine and 
along the edge of a glacier, then, climbing almost perpen- 
dicularly up a precipitous ridge of rocks, and lastly walking 
along the ridge with the precipice on one side, and a steep 
slope of snow on the other, you reach the highest point 
of the Hornli, whence the panorama is still finer than 
from the Schwarzsee. You are here at the very base of 
the pinnacle of the Matterhorn, which rises in awful majesty 
above your head. It is hard to say which view is the 
most interesting ; that from the Hornli, or that from the 
Hochthaligrat. The return may be varied, by leaving 
the Schwarzsee on the right, and descending straight 
down the steep slopes of loose, slaty debris, alternated by 
occasional patches of snow, to the green pastures which 
border the upper part of the valley of Zmutt, and from 
which a closer view can be had of the glacier of Zmntt, 
than from the greater elevation of the Schwarzsee or the 
Hornli. Prom these slopes, when I visited them, we 
obtained an excellent view, as far as the Stockhorn, in 
the centre of the Zmutt glacier, and even thought we 
could detect some slight inaccuracies in Studer^ excellent 
map ; but above that peak, all was enveloped in impene- 
trable mist. We were able, however, with the telescope, 
to reconnoitre some of the most formidable difficulties 



GLACIER OF ZMTJTT. 



197 



of the passage of the Col d'Erin, and to make out the 
manner in which they must be approached. 

The Zmutt glacier is a very curious one. For some 
miles up, it is completely covered with debris and moraine, 
from one side to the other, so that it looks like a vast heap 
of stones, and presents no appearance whatever of ice. 
This state of the surface commences, apparently, not far 
below the Stockhorn, but we were unable, from that 
distance, to discover the cause, or in what manner it began. 
Higher up, the glacier is quite white and dazzling, and the 
transition from its state of purity to its state of dirt 
appeared to be marked by few degrees. 

We made our way down towards the torrent of the 
Zmutt, and found a well-defined track, which overhangs 
it at a considerable distance above the stream, which is 
heard, though not always seen, thundering amongst the 
rocks and boulders below. It is a most beautiful path 
through pines, beeches, Scotch firs, and all manner of moun- 
tain trees, with a rich undergrowth of bilberry bushes and 
shrubs ; with a profusion of wild flowers scattered about on 
every side and making the sombre wood gay with bright and 
delicate hues. We had observed, as we ascended from Zer- 
matt in the morning, that above a certain very clearly defined 
limit on all sides of the valley, the larches and firs were 
quite black — far darker than below the line. We could 
not make out the reason, till we got among these trees, 
and then we found it to be owing to a dark, hairy lichen , 
(alectoria jubata) which grew upon the trees, and hung 
down, in rich masses and festoons, from the branches. 

Erom the abundance of the shade, the height of the 
valley and the northern exposure of its right flank, the wild 



198 



THE COL D'ERIN. 



flowers blooni longer and later than in most other places. 
I have found here in bud, at the very end of August, in a 
year of unusual heat, sprigs of rhododendron ferrugineum — 
the plant which, by a misnomer, is often called the rose of 
the Alps. There is a real Alpine rose, (rosa alpina) a much 
more beautiful flower ; whereas the rhododendron is very 
far removed from a rose. For days before I met with this 
specimen, I had seen none, except in seed. On the opposite 
side, the rocks are high and steep, and sprinkled with a 
scanty vegetation. We heard the marmots piping their 
shrill whistle continually, as they fed or played about in the 
sunshine across the torrent ; but, even with the telescope, 
we could not distinguish them from the brown rocks, with 
which their colour matches so well. Presently, we reached 
a bridge, at a great height above the stream, which was 
foaming beneath, through a deep and narrow rift in the rocks, 
and crossed to the sunny side, where we found an immense 
number of most beautiful butterflies, conspicuous amongst 
which was always the Apollo, with his bright, clear wings 
and large red spots. There were also some very large 
ones, of a dark brown, with velvety wings, and of striking 
beauty. 

The passage of the Col d'Erin, from Zermatt to Evolena, 
ascending by the glacier of Zmutt to its junction with that 
of Eerpecle, close under the peak of the Tete Blanche, and 
descending by the latter glacier into the Val d'Herins is 
probably one of the most difficult among the Alps. As far 
as scenery is concerned, it would, beyond all doubt, be best 
taken from Evolena to Zermatt, as, during the whole of the 
descent, you would have magnificent views of the Matterhorn 
and the basin of Monte Rosa, in front ; but there are serious 



VALLEYS SOUTH OF THE RHONE. 199 



obstacles in the way of enterprize ; the chief among which 
is the horrible accommodation which the whole valley 
affords. 

From the great group of mountains which lie between 
the valley of St. Nicholas., on the East, and the Val de 
Bagnes, on the West, three glacier torrents descend, and dis- 
charge their waters into the Bhone, near Turtmann, Sierre 
and Sion, respectively. If either of these streams be 
followed towards its source, it will be found to flow nearly 
north and south, and two — those which flow into the Rhone 
at Sierre and Sion — like the Visp, fork off right and left as 
you ascend the stream, at a distance of a few hours from 
their mouths. All of these valleys are known to hardly 
any one but their inhabitants, and although they lead 
amongst the wildest and grandest scenery of the Alps, they 
will probably remain long unexplored. The valley which 
leads southwards from Sion is the least unfrequented, and 
the few travellers who have ventured to penetrate its arcana 
are unanimous in their account of the filth, ignorance and 
rudeness of the inhabitants. 

In 1853, myself and a friend resolved to ascend the 
last-mentioned valley, for the purpose of passing the Col 
d'Erin to Zermatt ; we determined, after due inquiry, to 
take up with us, not only a stock of provisions, (for, probably, 
goats' cheese and black bread would be the best fare of 
the country) but a mule laden with straw, on which we 
might pass the night, under the shelter of some rock, as 
every one told us the filth and vermin we should encounter 
in any of the huts of the peasantry would be such as we 
should never forget. We made all our arrangements, 
but bad weather prevented us from carrying them out ; 



200 



A DINNER-TABLE, 



and I only mention the fact to show the character of the 
valley. The Yal d'Anniviers, which runs Southwards from 
Sierre, and the parallel valley of Turtmann have probably 
never been explored by a single amateur and, from what 
little I could learn of them, would appear to be still more 
barbarous than the neighbouring valleys of Herins and 
Heremence, whose united streams pour themselves into the 
Hhone, a mile or two above Sion. Balmat told me that 
he once had occasion to penetrate a few miles up the Val 
d'Anniviers, many years ago, and found the natives living in 
a state of nudity and filth, almost too gross and disgusting 
to relate.. 

In one of the clusters of miserable habitations in which 
they were congregated, he found in each hut a table, 
consisting of an unshaped block of wood, black and grimed, 
reeking with the accumulated filth and abominations of 
years, in the top of which were scooped a number of round 
holes corresponding to the number of the household. Into 
these pleasing receptacles were successively emptied soup, 
bread, cheese, milk, and anything else which went to make 
up the meal, which was eaten out of these holes by the 
aid of a wooden spoon. Probably, if a traveller should 
ever arise, bold enough to encounter the discomforts of 
exploring such places, he will find, in the rich mines of 
unknown and unappreciated scenery which lie buried 
among their recesses, treasures equal to any which the 
whole range of the Alps affords. It must be very long, 
however, before they can present any attractions to the 
mass of travellers. The Col d'Erin may be accomplished 
by starting very early from Zermatt, or camping out at the 
foot of the Zmutt glacier, without the necessity of passing 



RASH ENTERPRIZE. 



201 



a night in the Val d'Herins ; but it would be a very long 
day's journey to reach Sion, which is the first decent 
halting-place. It is, as I have said, a difficult, if not a 
dangerous pass, and should by no means be attempted 
without guides and ropes. A Scotch gentleman made the 
passage by himself, in 1853, from Zermatt; but the exploit 
was a mad one, and is mentioned by way of warning rather 
than of example. The upper part of the glacier of Zmutt 
abounds in hidden crevasses — the most formidable, because 
the least apparent, of all the dangers of the glaciers. 



CHAPTER X. 



PASS OF ST. THEODULE, FROM ZERMATT TO 
CHATILLON. 

A peasant of the Alps — 
Thy humble virtues, hospitable home, 
And spirit patient, pious, proud and free ; 
Thy self-respect, grafted on innocent thoughts ; 
Thy days of health, and nights of sleep ; thy toil 
By danger dignified, yet guiltless. 

Byron. 

Within a little month, 
He lay among those awful solitudes, 
Taking his final rest. 

Rogers. 



ASCENT TO THE GLACIER — A FANTASTIC NOOK — TAKING THE WRONG 
TRACK — DANGEROUS CREVASSES — CARELESSNESS OF THE ZERMATT 
GUIDES — SPECKS ON THE SNOW — A SEA OF MIST — A DREARY 
ABODE — AN EXTRAORDINARY CHARACTER — HIS TRAGICAL FATE — 
AN ICY TOMB — VAL TOURNANCHE — SHORT COMMONS AND DIRTY 
QUARTERS — A LONG WALK TO BREAKFAST — CHATILLON — 
REMARKS. 

The pass of the St. Theodule, or, as it is also called, 
the Mont Cervin, and the Matterjoch, leads from Zermatt, 
directly across the snowy ridge which walls in the end of 



THE ST. THEODULE. 



203 



the valley of St. Nicholas, an d which connects the summits 
of the Matterhorn and the Breithorn, to Chatillon in the 
Yal d'Aosta. The highest point is more than 11,000 
feet above the level of the sea, and commands, in fine 
weather, a wide and magnificent prospect over the moun- 
tains of Piedmont. The chief attraction of the pass, 
however, lies in the admirable points of view it affords of 
the great glacier basin of Monte Rosa, and still more in 
the proximity of the Matterhorn, whose awful peak rises 
abruptly out of the glaciers which skirt the pass, towering 
to the height of between four and five thousand feet above 
the surrounding level. It is a pass of no great difficulty, 
though the way lies for many hours across the glacier ; 
but it is more dangerous than is commonly supposed, and 
more precaution should certainly be adopted than the 
guides of Zermatt are often willing to take. 

We started from Zermatt, to cross the St. Theodule, at 
a quarter to five o' clock, on the 14th September, 1852, 
three days after our passage of the Allelein glacier, recorded 
in a former chapter. Our party consisted of Mr. A., 
H., myself, and a gentleman who wished to accompany 
us to the summit, and then return to Zermatt. Our friend, 
the student of theology, went with us, to return with this 
gentleman, and we had engaged a well known guide of 
Zermatt to take us into the valley on the other side. 
About half an hour after leaving Zermatt, the road, which 
lies through pleasant woods and meadows — with the Yisp 
on the left, foaming madly through its rocky bed — crosses 
the torrent of the Zmutt glacier, over which lies the 
difficult passage by the Col d'Erin to Evolena. Here, 
you ascend rapidly for some little distance, passing through 



204 



THE GORNER GLACIER. 



a cluster of huts called Platten, whence the path bears 
away to the left, and approaches the rocks which flank 
the Gorner glacier, of which you have an excellent view. 

This glacier has evidently been of much greater extent 
in former times, for the rocks on either hand of its course 
are very much polished and deeply striated. Seen from 
this point, the lower part of the glacier displays admirably 
the effect produced by obstacles in the way of the icy 
current, on the direction of its crevasses. It flows down 
rather diagonally, towards our left, as we stand looking up 
the glacier — towards its own right bank. Near the 
bottom, it is borne directly against a shoulder of rock 
projecting from the precipitous wall which forms the 
right, or North-eastern, side of the channel. The cre- 
vasses, at this point, run nearly at right angles to the 
direction of the flow, being, of course, rather curved 
outwards in the middle of the glacier; but as, at 
this shoulder, one part of the stream meets with the 
opposing barrier of rock, while the rest of the current 
does not encounter the same obstacle, the latter moves 
faster than the part near the rock; and the ice moves 
faster and faster, as it is farther removed from the opposing 
object ; especially, as the left part of the stream — that to 
our right, as we look down upon it from the grassy knolls 
near Platten — is not far from a ridge of rock in the 
glacier, over which it falls towards the valley below ; and 
it is, therefore, unsupported on this side. Consequently, 
the crevasses appear to radiate from the projecting rock, 
till they have changed their direction by nearly a quarter 
of a circle. The crevasses, which were nearly at right 
angles to the direction of the glacier, become, below the 



FANTASTIC NOOK. 



205 



shoulder, nearly parallel to it. In passing this spot, the 
following year, I found a very great increase in the size 
of the glacier; much greater, as it seemed to me, than 
the increase either of the Tee, or of the Allelein glacier. 

The ascent presently becomes considerably steeper, and 
after a while, you . pass beneath, or across, a part of the 
terminal moraine of the Furgge glacier, (not, of course, 
the same Eurgge glacier that was mentioned as near the 
head of the valley of Saas) which lies close under the 
precipices of the Matterhorn; and then, turning half 
round towards the left, a few minutes of very steep and 
stony climbing bring you to the brink of the glacier. 
The whole of the ascent from Zermatt is, for a pass of 
this order, the easiest and pleasantest I know. This part, 
however, ought to be accomplished in early morning, 
as it would certainly be very hot, later in the day. We 
went slowly, on my account, as I had been very unwell 
the day before ; but we reached the glacier before eight 
o' clock, after three hours of pleasant and gentle exercise. 
We found a wild recess, exposed towards the North-west, 
but curiously sheltered on the South and East, by the 
moraine of the glacier, and by a high wall of rock, capped 
with snow, which melted in the day-time, and trickled 
down into a shaded nook, whither the sun's rays never 
penetrated, and where it froze again into long, clear, 
transparent icicles, which hung in fantastic fringes and 
festoons on the rocks around. Here we rested for a few 
minutes, and refreshed ourselves with a little bread, soaked 
in the sparkling rill which stole along the bottom of this 
secluded little dell. Just before arriving here, we found 
a quantity of the reindeer-moss, [lichen Icelandicus) grow- 



206 



" ZURUCK !" 



ing on the mountain-side. A small bit of this plant, 
carried in the mouth and sucked, is one of the best things 
to allay thirst or stay hunger, when on a mountain 
excursion. It is slightly bitter, but not unpleasantly 
so, and very nutritious and fortifiant. 

Some friends of ours had left Zermatt by this pass, 
two or three days before, and our guide had been feli- 
citating himself on the assistance he should derive from 
their footsteps. H. and I started off in advance of our 
party, and, after a few minutes on the snow, came to 
a recent track, which we at once concluded to be the 
footmarks we were in search of. It led nearly South- 
west, parallel with the flank of the Matterhorn. We were 
rather startled, however, to find, after about half an hour's 
walk, that they led amongst a number of fearful crevasses, 
half hidden by the snow ; and while we were considering 
what course we should take, we heard the Zermatt man 
shouting at the top of his voice, " Zuriick ! zuriick I" 
(back ! back !) and presently he came panting up, and 
told us we had stumbled on a false track, made some days 
before by a guide from Yisp, who was imperfectly ac- 
quainted with the way, and had taken the traveller he 
professed to guide, by a fearfully perilous route, through 
a perfect maze of deep and treacherous crevasses. As to 
the danger of the route, there could not be two opinions ; 
but we strongly suspected it was put upon a Visp man, 
in order to impress upon the minds of travellers, that the 
only chance of safety lay in patronizing the native talent 
of Zermatt. Our man now struck off to the left, and 
led us in a direction nearly at right angles to our former 
course. Indeed, the only safe plan in crossing the St. 



OUT OF THE TRACK. 



207 



Theodule, is to keep well to the left from the moment 
you enter on the snow. By so doing, yon avoid all the 
worst parts of the glacier; but it is not the direction 
which one would choose for oneself; the tempting course 
is that of the Yisp man, which looks like the best and 
shortest way across the ridge. We had gone much too far 
to the right, before we turned back ; and, had our guide 
acted prudently, he would have made us retrace our steps 
to the edge of the glacier, before taking the true direction. 
As it was, we cross-cut to the right place, and, in so doing, 
walked over more than one hidden crevasse, on bridges of 
snow. Once, the guide struck his stick right through 
the snow, and, working out a hole, disclosed to us a 
terrible chasm, apparently of unfathomable depth, and 
only covered by the crust of snow on which we stood. 
As we were not tied together, this was very dangerous ; 
but our guide seemed to care little what risks we ran, so 
long as he had not the trouble of carrying ropes. 

Had Balmat or the cure been with us, such a thing as 
dispensing with ropes would not have been thought of for 
a moment. The cure' would probably have replied to any 
proposal of the sort, as he did to one of our party, when 
we were entering on the Allelein glacier; — " As you 
please, gentlemen; but, for my part, if we are not tied 
together, I don't go a step further." But many 
of the guides of Zermatt are reluctant to take the 
trouble of carrying ropes; they think people often 
pass safely enough, without them, and they habitually 
neglect such precautions as every prudent man ought 
always to take, on a long snow-clad glacier like this. One 
of the gentlemen whose tracks we were seeking told 



208 



STRANGE ENCOUNTER. 



me, a few days afterwards, that on this very pass he fell into 
a hidden crevasse, and was only saved by the readiness and 
activity of Zachary Cachat, whom he had engaged, onE's. 
recommendation, at Zermatt, and who canght him by the col- 
lar, when he was already up to his shoulders in the crevasse. 

Having gained, at length, the real footsteps of our pre- 
decessors, we ascended, slowly and gradually, in their track, 
for two or three hours. Here and there, are gentle undula- 
tions in the surface of the glacier, one of which was deep 
enough to conceal, for a considerable time, three or four 
little black dots we had seen descending towards us from 
the summit of the pass, reminding one, as they specked the 
stainless surface, of flies creeping across a whitewashed 
wall. We got, every moment, new and glorious views of 
the Matterhorn, of the vast fields of snow which encom- 
passed us in every direction, and of the great peaks which 
towered above them — the Breithorn, Monte Rosa, the 
Strahlhorn, and many more; and every time we looked 
round, we beheld the solemn range of the Bernese Ober- 
land — a background worthy the rest of the picture. The 
sky was without a cloud, and of that deep azure hue which 
we are apt to speak of as the peculiar characteristic of an 
Italian landscape. 

On reaching the top of a gentle swell, we suddenly found 
ourselves almost within hail of the figures that had 
been, when last we saw them, but specks upon the limit 
of our horizon. They turned out to be a friend of 
the gentleman who was accompanying us to the top, 
and who thus strangely encountered an acquaintance 
in the midst of that icy desert. This traveller was 
escorted by no less than three guides. If in the 



A SEA OF CLOUD. 



209 



multitude of counsellors there is safety, he certainly ran no 
risk ; but although he had accomplished two thirds of the 
way across the glacier, he was in a state of great nervous- 
ness and alarm. He had heard, on the other side, the 
most exaggerated accounts of the horrors of the pass, and 
had been told — what was quite true — that a man of the 
country had perished in a crevasse, on the Italian side, not 
long before ; and, not being familiar with the glaciers, he 
had endeavoured to secure safety in a numerous array of 
guides. Strange to say, the only precaution which really 
might have availed him, that of ropes, was, as usual, for- 
gotten or neglected. He had engaged one guide at 
Ckatillon, but, before he reached Val Tournanche, began to 
entertain suspicions, (well founded, I have no doubt,) as to 
his knowledge of the glacier, and had therefore retained 
two more at Yal Tournanche — and he was now accom- 
panied by all three. Oar guides proposed to effect an 
exchange of "fares/' to which we assented, and having, 
with some difficulty, satisfied our friend of the capabilities 
of our guide, and the impossibility of mistaking the track, 
we bid him farewell, and left him to pursue his way to 
Zermatt with our guide, while his three men turned back 
with us, and the theological student and his employer 
accompanied us as far as the top of the pass. But, alas, 
for the vanity of human hopes ! Brilliant and cloudless as 
the sky was, on the Swiss side, we found, the moment we 
reached the summit, a boiling sea of mist, continually 
surging up from the Italian valleys, and as continually 
hurled back by the strong north wind, and tossed up 
hundreds of feet higher than where we stood, wreathing 



210 



A DREARY ABODE. 



itself into a thousand quaint and ever-changing shapes, and 
forming a vast amphitheatre of cloud, of which our position 
was the centre. We could see nothing beyond the great 
semi- circular basin of glacier which we were about to 
descend, except when, for a moment, the wind blew with 
more than common strength, and, bearing back the tide of 
vapour, gave us a glimpse of the grassy ridges which fall 
away from the glacier into the valley beneath, and of 
sunlit peaks and shining glaciers, apparently poised in mid- 
air, half way between heaven and earth. 

We reached the summit of the pass at a quarter to 
eleven, six easy hours from Zermatt, and here we met with 
a most singular character. On a spot slightly sheltered by 
some rocks which jut up from the surface of the snow, was 
pitched a wretched tent, about ten or twelve feet long, and 
six or seven high, inhabited by an old man and his wife, 
who, during the summer months, dwelt at the crest of 
the Col, and in this frail and dreary abode braved the 
terrors of the tempest and the snow-storm. They supplied 
us with very fair bread and cheese, and some thin, sour 
wine, besides which they had the universal " cognac" for 
those who might prefer that cordial. De Saussure's 
sojourn of seventeen days upon the Col du Geant sinks 
into insignificance, when compared with the courage and 
endurance of this intrepid pair. The man pointed out to 
us, with much pride, a rude structure, built of loose stones, 
which it was the labour of his days to rear, and which, when 
finished, was to contain four bed-rooms. It was already 
half way up to the first floor. This chalet was to be 
dignified with the title of an hotel, and was to bear the 



THE " BOTJQUETIN." 



211 



appropriate title of the " Bouquetin."* He was a bronzed,, 
weather-beaten old fellow, with a grey beard falling over 
his breast, and wore a long drab coat, reaching to his heels, 
and a goat-skin cap which made me think of the pic- 
tures of Robinson Crusoe. His features were very peculiar 
— high cheek-bones, with a flat face, a pug nose, and a 
keen grey eye, as bright and sharp as a hawk's. He was a 
tall, well-made man, as straight as an arrow, with a majestic 
bearing, as if he were a monarch of that wild waste of ever- 
lasting desolation. He spoke very good French — a rare 
accomplishment in these parts, and his language and ideas 
were far beyond what is generally found in men of his rank 
and mode of life. 

After resting ourselves, and chatting with the old man 
and his wife for three quarters of an hour, we took leave of 
our friend who was to return to Zermatt and his theologi- 
cal guide, and began to descend the glacier. We learned, 
as we were starting, that the old man was nearly out of 
brandy and some other necessaries ; to obtain a supply of 
which, he was obliged to repair to Chatillon, whither 
he was about to set off, leaving his wife alone in the 
solitude of this bleak and inhospitable desert, till he 
should return. We invited him to join our party, and he 

* The steinbock, or mountain-goat of the Alps, an exceedingly 
rare animal, with immense horns curved back towards its shoulders, 
very wild and untameable, and far less often seen than the chamois. 
In most parts of Switzerland it is extinct, or very nearly so. It is 
least rare, among some of the more unfrequented parts of the 
Savoyard and Piedmontese Alps, south of the main chain. Some 
fine specimens of this curious animal are to be seen, stuffed, in the 
Museum at Berne. 



212 



AN ENTHUSIAST. 



accordingly shouldered an empty ( keg, and nodding 
an adieu to his wife,, who seemed profoundly indifferent 
about the matter, took his place in our line of march. 
We found him a perfect enthusiast about the glories of the 
scene from the top of the pass ; indeed, he seemed almost 
beside himself on this point. The sunrise and sunset, 
especially the former, he described in glowing terms, and 
repeatedly exclaimed that, by building a shelter for those 
who otherwise could never witness this scene of 
transcendent glory, he was doing good service to mankind. 
I was surprised at the vigour and originality of his 
thoughts, and the force and elegance of his phraseology, 
both of which would have done credit to an educated man. 
In the course of the evening, while we were at Yal Tour- 
nanche, he came to us to beg a small subscription towards 
the expenses of building his house on the glacier ; but we 
were satisfied that the object of his anxiety was far more 
the completion of his undertaking, and the gratification of 
the darling aim of his life, in making known to the world 
the glories of a sunrise on the Matterjoch, than the real- 
ization of pecuniary advantage from the speculation. 
" Messieurs," he said, " je travaille pour rhumanite and 
the light in which he considered himself was that of a 
benefactor to his race. He proved an excellent companion, 
as he gave us much interesting information about the 
neighbourhood, and about the antiquities of Aosta. 

T am sorry to add that his fate is believed to have 
been a tragical one. He told us that he intended 
to travel on foot to Paris during the winter, and to 
make his way thence to London, for the purpose of col- 
lecting the necessary funds wherewith to finish his house. 



TRAGICAL FATE. 



213 



It appears that late in the autumn of that year, or the 
next, (I forget which) he set off from Yal Tournanche to 
cany out his plan, and that, from that day to this, he has 
never been seen or heard of. It is greatly feared that the 
little money the old man had managed to scrape together, 
and which he was believed to carry about him, had tempted 
some of the cowardly ruffians who have given so bad a 
name to the northern valleys of Piedmont, and that he was 
robbed and murdered, shortly after he started from Val 
Tournanche. The harmless and adventurous enthusiast 
has disappeared, and the cabin, in the midst of the glacier, 
remains as he left it, and will remain so until the violence 
of the storm has prostrated its walls, or some successor 
shall be found to inherit the old man's enthusiasm and 
love of nature. 

The central part of the glacier, on the Italian side, 
abounds in concealed crevasses, and it is necessary to keep 
to the right, and skirt its outer edge, in order to avoid them. 
This side of the pass is much steeper than the other, but 
the snow was pretty hard, and the walking very agreeable. 
About an hour after leaving the top, we observed, at some 
distance on our left, a pole planted upright in the ice, by 
the side of a crevasse. On inquiring what it betokened, we 
were told that it marked the spot where an unhappy way- 
farer had perished, about a week before, in a deep and 
hidden crevasse. He was a farmer from Gressonay, who 
was crossing to Zermatt with a sheep, accompanied by 
a traveller whom he had undertaken to guide over the pass. 
He had taken a track which the peasants avail themselves 
of, with safety, during the months of spring, when the cre- 
vasses are but narrow, and the coating of snow thick and 



214 



TERRIBLE DEATH. 



firmly frozen, but which, in autumn, is full of danger. He 
had advanced some distance on the glacier, when he stepped 
upon a treacherous covering of snow which concealed a 
deep crevasse. It gave way, the moment he trod upon it, 
and he was precipitated to the bottom. The traveller 
could not see him, but could hear his call for help ; the 
unhappy man, who was not much injured, retained his 
presence of mind, and told his companion to retrace his 
way by their footsteps, and hasten with what assistance he 
could procure ; " and pray for me/ ; he added ; " I shall 
need your prayers/' The traveller stuck his alpenstock 
into the ice, to mark the crevasse into which his guide had 
fallen, and made what speed he could on his errand. 
It was, however, some hours before he was able to return 
with succour ; when they arrived at the crevasse, all was 
still and silent as the grave; they called and called again, 
but no voice replied ; the object of their search had proba- 
bly expired, long before they reached the spot. It is dim- 
cult to exaggerate the terrors of such a situation, and the 
imagination shrinks from contemplating the feelings of the 
unfortunate prisoner within that cold and dreary dungeon, 
as his powers of endurance and vitality slowly gave way, 
and left him powerless in the chill embrace of death. 
Nearly thirty persons responded to the call for assistance, 
but they exhibited a strange apathy, or want of courage ; 
for though well supplied with ropes, no one appears to have 
ventured to descend into the crevasse, and when we passed, 
and saw the pole, a dark line against the sheeted snow 
behind, no attempt had been made to recover the body 
from its icy tomb. 

We quitted the glacier about one o'clock, and made a 



VAL TOURNANCHE. 



215 



very rapid descent, for nearly an hour, over most delightful 
turf. We found very few wild flowers, compared with 
what I had expected to find on the Italian side of the pass. 
Probably, with this southern exposure, the most part were 
already in seed, and therefore did not strike the eye. We 
found forget-me-nots in some abundance, and great quan- 
tities of that delicate Alpine flower the bupleurum ranun- 
culoides (hare's ear). About half past two, we reached the 
chalets of Breuil, where we were able to procure an excel- 
lent cup of coffee. From Breuil, we descended for an hour 
and a half by the side of the glacier torrent, which in one 
place was actually covered in by the stones and earth 
which had settled in the narrow rift — varying from three 
or four inches to as many feet, in breadth— through which, 
at the depth of fifty or sixty feet, it thundered on in its 
furious course ; and, at length, shortly before four, on turn- 
ing an angle of the road, the spire and roofs of Yal Tour- 
nanche appeared close at hand, and our day's work was done. 

In the upper part of the valley, the rocks on our right 
had been fine and bold ; but about Yal Tournanche the 
valley expands very much, and, on the left, is wide and 
open. It is here not unlike the lower part of the descent 
from Capel Curaig to Beddgelert. Everything points to a 
great change of climate; squirrels are seen leaping from 
bough to bough, and running from rock to rock ; the fir 
and the pine have given place to the chesnut and the 
beech, and the early fall of the leaves proclaims the power 
of the fierce autumnal sun. 

Yal Tournanche boasted no inn, but the cure was in 
the habit of receiving strangers ; so we made for his house. 
Happily, we saw him only out of the window, working 



216, 



A NICE PARSONAGE. 



away, like a common labourer, at some repairs which were 
being done to the church. I say, happily, for he was the 
dirtiest specimen of humanity I ever beheld, with a huge 
goitre hanging from his neck. His house was equally 
dirty; the dust lay to the thickness of a sheet of paper 
on everything ; and, worn and travel-stained as our garments 
were, which had borne the brunt of an Alpine campaign, 
they seemed far too good to soil, by sitting down in so much 
dirt. However, as there was no help for it, we set to 
work to make things as clean and tidy as we could, for the 
evening. "We had three rooms opening out of one another. 
The middle room had a bed, supported on three boards 
laid on tressels. The table was a board, also on tressels ; 
there were four rough wooden chairs ; and this was literally 
all the furniture of the room. In each of the side rooms, 
which opened out of this, were a bed, a chair, a table made 
of an unshaped block of wood on three legs, and a pie- 
dish. The floors were so thick in dirt, that your boots left 
foot-marks as you walked across the room ; and everything 
you touched soiled your hands. We could get scarcely 
anything to eat — a serious evil after eleven hours' walk. A 
chicken was brought, but so small, skinny and raw-boned, 
that there were not half-a-dozen good mouthfuls upon him ; 
and the only bread consisted of long sticks of biscuit, a 
most unsubstantial kind of fare, of which, moreover, there 
was but a scanty supply. The only good articles of food 
were some eggs, but of these we could not procure more 
than two or three, and we went to bed hungry and tired. 
Fleas were seen, and we laid ourselves down in fear and 
trembling ; but we got off much better in this respect 
than we had any reason to hope. 



PIEDMONTESE CROSS. 



217 



As there was no temptation to loiter in such quarters, 
we rose in good time ; and, slipping a few fragments of the 
" long breads" into our pockets, shouldered our knapsacks, 
and sallied forth, after settling with the housekeeper, in the 
early dawn of a clear autumnal morning. We observed 
that a great cross near to the cure's house bore, as is usual 
in Piedmont, no image of Christ, but only representations 
of different objects connected with the last scenes of that 
solemn history; the hammer, the nails, the sponge, the 
javelin, the reed, the whip, the cords, the cup, the lantern, 
the cock, and so forth. 

We had been told that Chatillon was within a tolerably 
easy walk of Yal Tournanche, and, accordingly, had started 
without a breakfast, depending on Chatillon for that meal ; 
but we found we had been much deceived ; and it took lis 
three hours and a half of very fast walking to reach that 
town. The descent was rapid, and the valley, for the most 
part, monotonous, resembling the Yal Anzasca, wide, pretty 
and well wooded. 

As long as the sun was behind the range of mountains 
on our left, the temperature was cool and pleasant ; but 
from the moment he rose above them, about half past six 
o'clock, the heat became very great ; and, hungry as we 
were, we all felt the walk a little too long to be 
pleasant before breakfast. There was not a breath 
of wind stirring; so much so, that in one place, where 
we met a flock of goats being driven to their daily pas- 
turage, the air was scented with the fragrance of their 
recent presence, for nearly a mile after we passed them. 
About two hours below Yal Tournanche, we came upon 
some very fine remains of a Roman aqueduct, carried 

L 



218 



CHATILLON. 



along the face of the rock, five or six hundred feet above 
the valley, over arches of very solid and substantial 
masonry, which appeared as durable as the rock itself. 
We had been bidden to look out for it by the old hero 
of the summit, who had been lamenting, most pathetically, 
the carelessness and ignorance of the people about these 
remains of antiquity. Here we looked back, and saw, 
for the last time, the stupendous point of the Matterhorn, 
apparently overhanging the mountains beneath, and 
covered along every ridge and ledge with pure and daz- 
zling snow. In front of us were some fine snow-clad 
peaks which we did not know. 

Shortly before reaching the end of the valley, we passed 
through rich woods in which the chesnut, the cherry, 
the walnut and the beech predominated, and which 
afforded a welcome protection from the increasing heat 
of the sun ; and soon after eight o'clock, we emerged upon 
the beautiful Yal d'Aosta, and, turning to the left over 
a fine bridge, below which are the remnants of two former 
bridges, one beneath the other, we went down the principal 
street of Chatillon — as filthy a street as I ever saw or wish 
to see, with the water running down the middle in an 
open channel, and being carried thence direct to a fountain 
in the street, where, because it issues from a pipe in the 
orthodox fashion, it is supposed to be clean and fit to 
drink, and is used by the inhabitants for that purpose. 
We asked for some water at breakfast, and we saw the 
waiter repair to this source to fetch it. We put up at the 
" Trois Bois/' where with infinite difficulty, and by dint 
of alternate coaxing and scolding, we succeeded, between 
nine and ten o'clock, in procuring something to eat. I 



REMARKS. 



219 



should not be doing justice to the landlord,"* if I did not 
add that his incivility was only equalled by his extortion ; 
as we found when it became necessary to bargain for the 
decrepid vehicle and miserable jade which conveyed us 
to Aosta. 

The pass of the St. Theodule is one of the grandest 
excursions among the Alps, and at the same time one of 
the easiest. There is some risk, undoubtedly, without 
proper precaution; much risk, with a bad guide. A 
slight deviation from the proper direction would lead into 
very formidable dangers; and, as I have already said, I 
think the guides of Zermatt very much disposed to consult 
their own ease, by neglecting the obvious and effectual 
precaution of using ropes on the glacier ; but there is 
nothing like a serious difficulty, from one end of the pass 
to the other. It is even sometimes crossed by ladies, on 
mule-back. This can only be done, when the snow is in 
a good state, and by starting early in the morning, so as 
to secure some hours before the sun is strong, for the 
passage of the glacier, and even then, the animal is apt to 
slip and flounder, in a manner painful to himself and 
disagreeable to his rider. There would be no difficulty, 
at any time, in having a lady carried across in a chaise-a- 
porteurs, though six porters, at least, would be necessary ; 
or, if she were a good walker, a mule might be taken to 
the edge of the ice, and by a little previous arrangement, 
another might be engaged to meet her at the foot of the 
glacier on the opposite side. This would reduce the 
walking to about five hours ; and when the snow is in a 
good state, the walk over the glacier is neither fatiguing 

* I do not know whether the inn is still in the same hands. 

L 2 



220 



GUIDES. 



nor unpleasant, and many ladies could do it with perfect ease. 
On account of the scenery, it is perhaps rather better to 
cross from Yal Tournanche to Zermatt than the opposite 
way ; but the guides of Zermatt are, generally speaking, 
better than those of the Italian valley. Pierre and 
Charles Immanuel Gorette of Val Tournanche are, however, 
good guides, and speak French, which few of the guides 
of Zermatt do. We found them attentive, intelligent and 
competent. Fifteen francs a man is the regular tariff 
for the pass, besides which a small gratuity is expected. 
Unless more are wanted to carry baggage, one guide to 
show the way is enough for any number of travellers. 
Indeed, the stronger the party, the less need of additional 
guides, as they could help one another in case of accident. 
The only drawback to this excursion is the bad accom- 
modation at Val Tournanche and in the Yal d' Aosta, by 
which the pass must be approached or left. I have heard 
that a tolerable inn has been constructed at Ya] Tournanche 
since I was there ; but the cure's house afforded as 
miserable accommodation as I have ever met with in 
the Alps. 

The Yal d' Aosta is the head-quarters of dirty inns and 
bad beds. I would rather, at any time, camp out on the 
mountain side than be forced to sleep at Chatillon or Aosta ; 
and latterly, when I have had to pass through that valley, 
I have always made free use of horses and carriages, and 
managed to push on either to St. Eemy or Courmayeur, for 
the night. The Yal d' Aosta is one of the loveliest 
and most fertile valleys in the north of Italy; but it is 
inhabited by a stunted race, afflicted with goitre and cre- 
tinism, to an extent which contrasts painfully with the 



VAL d'aOSTA. 



221 



charms of the scenery. Among such a population, it is vain 
to hope for decency or cleanliness ; and, as far my experience 
goes, I have found the innkeepers as dishonest as they are 
dirty. It is very likely, however, that even here, great 
improvements may be made, in a few years, if they be not 
already taking place. 



CHAPTER XI. 



THE TORRENTHORN, THE (ESCHINEN LAKE, AND THE 
DISTRICT OE THE GHEMMI. 

What, though th' ascent is steep, and rude the way ? 
Let us ascend the summit, and look down ! 
Around ! above ! to Him whose home is thought. 

Elliott. 

The snow-fed torrent in white mazes tossed 
Down to the clear ethereal lake below : 
And, high o'ertopping all the broken scene, 
The mountain fading into sky, where shines 
On winter, winter shivering. 

Thomson. 



ASCENT OF THE TORRENTHORN — STARTLING APPROACH TO A 
PRECIPICE — ALL THE ALPS AT ONE VIEW — A NOVEL PAINT- 
BRUSH — THE GHEMMI — THE SCHWARENBACH — A "VERITABLE 
VOLEUR" — GLACIERS OP THE WILDSTRUBEL — THE OESCHINEN 
LAKE — PROFUSION OF WILD FRUITS — FORCE OF THE TORRENT — 
A FREEZING BATHE — FRUTIGEN — CORDIAL RECEPTION. 

No visitor to the Baths of Leuk should fail to ascend, 
if possible, the Torrenthorn — a bold mountain rising 
abruptly at the head of the Maing Gletscher, which fills 
up the head of the valley to the east of Leukerbad, and lies 



THE WOLF'S CRAG. 



223 



in the hollow between the Torrenthorn, on the South, and 
the Great Altels on the North. On the opposite side, the 
Torrenthorn slopes more gently down towards the valley 
of the Dala, which is partly fed by the rivulets that have 
their sources in its grassy slopes. The path begins close 
to the Hotel des Alpes, and zig-zags up the steep pasture- 
grounds to the east,* till it gains the belt of trees above. 
Here, it turns to the right and winds, for a considerable 
distance, in a south or south-westerly direction, beneath 
the shade of thick and pleasant woods. 

I have seldom seen a more beautiful wood-walk. The 
undergrowth of ferns and mosses is singularly rich and 
luxuriant. Great quantities of wild raspberries and straw- 
berries grow near the path, and afford a grateful refresh- 
ment on a sultry day. Presently, the scene becomes wilder, 
and you have to make three or four sharp and steep zig-zags 
up the face of a little cliff, while below you the precipices 
fall away, far down towards the stream of the Dala. Here, 
it is advisable for a lady to quit her mule for a few minutes, 
as a slip would be awkward, and the path is bad. I was 
very much struck at this place, called the Wolfs Crag, with 
the beauty of the wild flowers, which clung in bright patches 
to the ledges of the rock, or trailed in elegant festoons 
over the surface of the cliff. Beyond this, the wood was 
more open ; and presently we came to a long line of low 
stone wall, through a gate in which we emerged upon a 
spacious and fertile pasture-ground, where hundreds of 
sheep and cattle were grazing about, or lazily chewing the 

* In one of these upland meadows, we found a magnificent 
specimen of the geum rivale ; almost as beautiful, though not so 
brilliant, a flower as the g. montanum. 



224 



THE TORUENTHORN. 



cud, sunning themselves in the pleasant warmth of a bright 
September morning. These pasturages are of great 
extent, occupying a large part of the ascent, and as you 
have to make your way across them for nearly two hours, 
this part of the road is somewhat monotonous. In time, 
however, the grass became stunted and scrubby, and, at 
length, all vegetation entirely ceased, and for the last half 
hour we zig-zagged up a steep slope, the surface of which 
was entirely covered by small loose pieces of some schist- 
aceous stone, which splits off in flat, slaty fragments. 
This part of the route is something like a part of the ascent 
from Beddgelert to the top of Snowdon. "We were upon 
a broad shoulder of mountain, which, on the right, fell away 
with a very rapid incline, on which were some extensive 
beds of last year's snow.* On the left, the surface was con- 
vex and dome-like, for a considerable distance, and ap- 
peared to terminate in a precipice, but as the path wound 
up the flattest part of the mass, and did not approach within 
many hundred yards of the limit of the convexity, it was 
difficult to say what lay beyond, and how far the convexity 
might extend. The zig-zags became gradually shorter, and 
the shoulder narrower, and at length we came to a rude 
deal table and form, fixed into the ground, which was 
strewed in every direction with unmistakeable traces of many 
a meal. The view had been very fine for some time past, 

* Near the snow, the gentiana nivalis was blooming beautifully. 
Many of the commoner sorts, such as verm, bavarica, &c, are found 
below, not far from here. I picked a pretty specimen of ranunculus 
Tyrenceus. Lichen nivalis grows near the top ; below the pastures 
I met with the delicate gypsophila repens. The mgsotises were not 
plentiful. 



STARTLING VIEW. 



225 



but the bare black ridge in front of us still blocked up a 
considerable part of the horizon. At this table, my wife dis- 
mounted from her mule and walked forward. A few paces 
further, we found, to our surprize, that the ridge ended quite 
suddenly, in a series of tremendous precipices, beneath which, 
in front and on the right, lay a vast e ' valley of desolation," 
covered for miles with a bare black deposit of barren 
debris, on which not a speck of vegetation was visible, and 
on the left, the great smooth expanse of the glacier of 
Maing, streaked here and there with a formidable crevasse, 
and edged nearly all round with a fringe of curious slanting 
masses of rock, all having the same inclination and the 
same form, and rising in lop-sided pyramids abruptly from 
the glacier. It was one of the most startling views I had 
ever beheld. We had not the least idea, a dozen paces 
before arriving at the edge, that the ridge was about to 
terminate, and the precipice was so sheer, that we sat down 
with our feet over its edge, and stones that we dislodged 
took one bound and were out of sight, till they rolled far 
into the valley below. We came so suddenly and startlingly 
upon this precipice, that it was some moments before we 
recovered from our surprise, and were able to look 
around us at the wonderful panorama which presented itself. 

Across the glacier of Maing, the noble peaks of the 
Great Altels, the Balmhorn and the Doldenliorn rose 
sharply into the sky, at no great distance, separated from 
us by the head of the valley of the Dala, and guarded, in 
front, by the stupendous crags and precipices of the 
Ghemmi. Turning somewhat to the right, the eye 
wandered amongst a maze of glaciers and peaks, which 

l 3 



226 



WONDERFUL PANORAMA. 



included the long line of the Bernese Alps. It required, 
however, some investigation to make them out by name, 
as the forms with which I was familiar, on the North side 
of the chain, are very different from those which the 
spectator gazes on from the South and West. The Jung- 
frau, the Finster Aarhorn, Schreekhorn and Wetterhorn 
were concealed by the massive groupe of the Aletschorn, in 
front of which was seen the head of the Lotsch glacier ; 
the valley of that name being hidden by a long range of green 
slopes which run from the back of the Maing glacier, down 
upon the valley of the Rhone. The most conspicuous of 
all the mountains of the Oberland was the Bietschhorn, 
whose summit rose high into the heavens, with a solemn 
grandeur, inferior only to that of the Matterhorn, as seen 
from the neighbourhood of Zermatt. Tins is the moun- 
tain I have elsewhere mentioned as ^forming a fine 
object in the descent from the valley of Eee to Saas, 
and which lies between the principal chain and the 
valley of the Rhone. It was considerably nearer to us than 
the other mountains in the same quarter, and it is 
one of the finest objects in this extensive and splendid 
panorama. 

Further still to the right, at a distance of about thirty 
miles, was the broad groupe of the Monte Leone, showing 
where the pass of the Simplon crosses into Italy. A little 
further yet to the right, in what artists would call the 
middle-distance, was a long broken line, stretching from 
east to west, across nearly a third of the circle of our 
horizon, with a thin blue haze hovering above it, towards 
which the descending outlines of the mountain ranges 



WONDERFUL PANORAMA. 



227 



sloped on either side. It is hardly necessary to Fay, that this 
marked the position of the valley of the Rhone, and was a 
great assistance in determining the identity of the number- 
less peaks and mountain groupes which formed our view. 
A little to the West of South, the Rhone takes a slight bend 
southwards, which brought it directly into a line with us ; 
and we looked down the whole extent of that beautiful 
valley, from Sierre — where the Rhone first comes into view, 
a broad and conspicuous river — nearly to Martigny, long 
before reaching which town, it has dwindled to a mere silver 
thread, meandering gracefully between rich and verdant 
banks. 

The several lines of the Yisp Thai, the Turtmann Thai, 
and the Yal d'Anniviers, or Einfisch Thai, could be 
distinctly traced, mapping out the mountain ranges upoi^ 
the distant horizon into several groupes, the first of which 
comprehended the stupendous range of the Saas Grat, 
from the Balfrein to Monte Rosa, and the continuation of 
the chain to the Matterhorn, whose great summit, how- 
ever, was, from this point of view, surpassed in sharpness 
and majesty by the needle-like peak of the Weisshorn — a 
mountain of nearly equal height, and which is often mis- 
taken, in distant prospects, for the Matterhorn. Prom the 
Dom to the Matterhorn we gazed upon a line of snowy 
summits, not one of which was less than fourteen thousand 
feet in height. Monte Rosa struck me from here, as it did 
from the Col du Geant, and afterwards from the Wetterhorn, 
as distinguished by an exquisite symmetry and grace, which 
no other neighbouring summit possesses, and which made 
us doubly regret than an untoward circumstance had 



228 



WONDERFUL PANORAMA. 



prevented our reaching Zermatt, this summer. Had it been 
evening, one might say, 

<f How faintly-flushed, how phantom-fair, 
Was Monte Rosa, hanging there — 

A thousand shadowy-pencill'd valleys 
And snowy dells in a golden air," 

Between the Turtmann Thai, and the Einfisch Thai was 
another long stretch of snowy peaks, of which the loftiest 
w r ere the Dent Blanche and the Mont Combin, at either 
extremity of the line ; and to the West of the latter, beyond 
the Rhone, a great block of inferior mountains, compre- 
hending the chains bordering upon the lower part of the 
Yal d'Herins, and the smaller valleys which run southward 
from the valley of the Ehone ; while, 
% 

" Far, far above, piercing the infinite sky, 
Mont Blanc appears ; — still, snowy and serene." 

To the west of where we stood, the range of snowy tops- 
North of the valley of the Ehone, from the Dent da Midi to 
the Wildstrubel and the Lammern — fronted by the impos- 
ing wall of crags which flank the valley of the Dala and 
seal its upper end with the apparently impassable barrier 
of precipices, up the face of which that marvellous work, 
the Ghemmi pass, is carried — complete the panorama, which 
is the most magnificent, save one, (that from the Wetter- 
horn) that I have ever seen. It certainly surpasses the view 
from the Faulhorn, although the back of the Bernese 
range is far from being so fine as the North side, as in this 
chain, no less than in the great southern chain of the Alps, 
a much steeper and more precipitous face is exposed to the 



NOVEL PAINT-BRUSH. 



229 



South than to the North : less snow, consequently, hangs on 
the slopes, and what does lie is more rapidly melted, so 
that this side of the chain is always blacker, as well as 
more precipitous and • rugged, than the northern de- 
clivities. All the principal mountains in Switzerland, 
are beheld at once from the same spot, and the eye 
ranges over a sea of summits, of the most prodigious 
extent and variety. The intermixture of crag and snow 
and green pasture-land is singularly attractive and pleasing. 
Mont Blanc, which is the remotest object in the view, is 
hardly more than sixty miles distant, and Monte Rosa but 
forty, so that every part of the panorama is seen, on a 
clear day, with admirable distinctness. There is but 
one thing wanting to make the picture perfect, namely, 
water ; not a single lake is to be seen in any direction. 

We stayed three hours at the top, for my wife to sketch. 
Fortunately, we had taken the precaution to bring a phial 
of water with us, for we should have found none there, 
without descending half an hour to the beds of snow we 
had passed, and melting some of the snow : but an unex- 
pected difficulty occurred ; the camel's hair brush had 
dropped out of the sketching case and was gone. It would 
be impossible to put in the snow, afterwards, from memory ; 
for many of the peaks were strangely necked and dashed 
with white, in a wild, irregular way. In this emergency, I 
snipped off a bunch of my own hair, and cutting a little 
splinter of deal from the table, with the help of a piece of 
silk my wife had in her pocket, manufactured a paint- 
brush, which, if not so good as the one that was lost, at 
all events answered its purpose, and was found sufficient 
for many a subsequent sketch. After a hearty lunch, we 



230 



REMARKS. 



returned to Leukerbad, the only incident on the descent 
being a conflict between two bulls, in the fields near the 
hotel, which threatened, at one time, to be tragical, but was 
at length terminated, like another memorable struggle of re- 
cent date, by the intervention of a third party, on terms not 
quite satisfactory to the one who seemed likely to have the 
best of it, and for which he seemed to be anything but grate- 
ful to the interloper. 

I cannot understand why the ascent of the Torrenthorn 
is not more constantly made. If it were in the neighbour- 
hood of Interlaken or Chamouni, an inn would be built at 
the top, and numerous parties would sleep there, to witness 
the sunset and sunrise. As it is, nine people out of ten 
(if not a much larger proportion) of those who visit the 
Baths of Leuk pass on to Kandersteg, or to the valley of 
the Hhone, without any idea of bestowing a day upon one 
of the grandest sights in Switzerland. There is no diffi- 
culty ; mules can go to the very summit, and it is a mode- 
rate day's work. We started at seven, and reached the 
top at noon. It is called a four hours' ascent, but I doubt 
whether many mules could be found to do it in less than 
five ; still it is not fatiguing. The path, though somewhat 
steep, is generally good ; and ample time for rest may be 
allowed at the summit. The descent was performed, easily, 
in three hours, and we returned to Leukerbad in time for 
the six o'clock table- d'hote. 

The next day, we made that wonderful pass, the Ghemmi, 
which I never approach without new feelings of astonish- 
ment and awe. When I first saw the head of the valley 
of the Dala, the path was much narrower, and altogether 
in very different order from its present admirable condi- 



THE GHEMMI. 



231 



tion ; there were scarcely any of those railings and balus- 
trades which are now constructed in the most exposed parts, 
and which form conspicuous objects from below, indicating 
where the track creeps up the face of the precipice ; and I 
shall never forget the impression produced, as we wound 
steadily up the valley to the base of the rocks. It seemed 
perfectly absurd to think of escaping from the valley, in 
that direction, unless we could imitate a fly, and creep up 
a perpendicular wall. The Happy Yalley was not more 
effectually barred than this appeared to be, and one's feel- 
ing was that unless we could find better wings than Rasse- 
las's, we might stay beneath those crags till doomsday. I 
remember well, how impossible it was to divest myself of 
the idea that we must have mistaken the way, and lighted 
upon a blind trail. It is no part of my purpose now to 
describe the passage of the Ghemmi, but it is difficult, when 
so near, to avoid expressing some of those feelings of mys- 
terious wonder which it never fails to excite. My object, 
at present, is to point out the advantage of sleeping at the 
Schwarenbach, as the little inn at the summit is called. 
The quarters are not first-rate, but I have slept in many a 
worse place, and they are at least as good as those at 
Kandersteg ; — a halting-place which all who value a good 
night's rest should religiously eschew.* Either in the wild 
tarn beneath the Schwarenbach, or in the Daubensee, 

* In 1854, I heard that a new inn was shortly to be opened at 
Kandersteg ; and we passed the carcase of a house apparently 
intended for an inn, a few minutes on the Leukerbad side of 
Kandersteg. My remark does not apply to that inn, if. it be opened. 
I know nothing either to the advantage or disadvantage of such 
an inn. 



232 



THE SCHWARENBACH. 



a bracing dip might be enjoyed by those who are fond of 
a cold morning bath. Their waters are too cold for more 
than a dip to be safe ; no human being, probably, could 
swim a hundred yards in either. By passing the night at 
the Schwarenbach, it is easy to reach the brow of the 
mountain above Leukerbad at, or soon after, sunrise; and I 
have scarcely ever beheld anything finer in my life than 
the early morning sun shining gloriously upon the distant 
groupe of Monte Bosa and his attendant peaks, which girt 
him like subjects standing round a monarch's throne, and 
lighted up with a flood of radiance the vast banks of 
dense white cloud, which clustered in solemn state about 
his sides and base. The same inn would form an excel- 
lent starting-point for an ascent of the Great Altels ; 
an expedition which Balmat and myself longed greatly 
to attempt, and which we had little doubt was practi- 
cable. 

If the Schwarenbach were properly kept, and honestly 
conducted, there is no reason why it should not become a 
favourite halt for the night, with those who know the invi- 
gorating effect of sleeping at great heights ; but unfortu- 
nately, for the last two or three years, (up to 1854 — I can 
speak no later), it has been kept by a set of extortioners, 
each worse than his predecessor. I slept there, in com- 
pany with H. and two other friends, in 1852, when we 
had great reason to complain, and disallowed more than a 
third of the bill; but in 1854, the innkeeper outdid all 
all other men I ever came across, in the shameless impu- 
dence of his outrageous demands. Balmat had warned 
me against him, as a " veritable voleur/' but he was worse 
than I expected to find him ; and if his successor has been 



THE WILDSTKUBEL GLACIER. 233 



able to keep his proper rank in the series, he must be a 
perfect paragon of rascality. 

From the Schwarenbach may be explored also the glaciers 
of the Wildstrubel. I have never traversed them ; but my 
companion of 185 2, H., during a temporary delay, caused by 
an accident to my foot, ascended the Engestligen Thai from 
Frutigen. He found the head of the valley singularly wild 
and romantic — rocky mountains in the foreground, with 
a fine waterfall falling over the precipices opposite Adel- 
boden, and above, the snowy summits of the great chain. 
He slept at Adelboden in very rough, but tolerably clean, 
quarters, where he derived abundant amusement from 
observing the country people, of whom the inn was full ; 
and, next morning, climbed to the Lammer Gletscher by a 
track which not unfrequently rivals the original wildness 
of the Ghemmi, and where, in places, the only means of 
advancing a step are afforded by pieces of wood projecting 
from the rock, or by stages erected on supports of a 
similar kind. He traversed the glacier for somewhat less 
than an hour, surrounded by bold crags, but too much 
shut in for a distant view, and descended upon the Dau- 
bensee. He described the expedition as one well worth 
taking, for the sake, especially, of the view of the head of 
the Engestligen Thai, and the wild and curious approach 
to the glacier. 

A little excursion may be made from Kandersteg or 
Frutigen, which, at a very small expenditure of labour, 
conducts the traveller to a scene as unique, as it is exqui- 
sitely beautiful; I mean, a visit to the (Eschinensee, a 
glacier lake which lies at the foot of the Blumlis Alp, and 
is half surrounded by a magnificent range of sheer preci- 



234 



THE (ESCHINEN LAKE. 



pices, which rise directly from the water's edge for thou- 
sands of feet, till they are capped by the enormous glaciers 
of that mountain and the Doldenhorn. It is hardly an 
hour and a half s walk or ride, from Kandersteg to the 
shores of the lake, following up the stream by which its 
surplus waters are discharged into the torrent of the Kan- 
der. The first half hour is over a dreary waste of stones 
and debris, which the stream has brought down in bad 
weather and scattered over scores and scores of acres, after 
which, you enter pleasant thickets and pass through copses 
of dwarf mountain trees, which bring you to a short 
stretch of swampy ground, where unbidden springs of 
crystal water gush forth at every step. You do not see 
the lake till close upon it ; when it bursts suddenly upon 
you, cradled in the very heart and bosom of the Blumlis 
Alp, which rises in savage grandeur, one unbroken mass of 
mingled precipice and snow, from the water's edge far into 
the blue sky. The lake lies at the head of the valley you 
have been ascending, and the lowest point in the wall 
which rises beyond it may be scaled ; it is, in fact, the Dun- 
dengrat by which a pass of no common beauty leads, 
beneath the snows of the Blumlis Alp, to the head of the 
valley of Lauterbrunnen. 

In this sequestered spot, the still waters are scarcely ruffled 
by a breath of air, and the dark precipices which support 
the glaciers of the Blumlis Alp and the Doldenhorn appear 
to be continued for an equal depth beneath the surface of the 
lake, from whose deep bosom the mirrored snows shine 
with what seems no borrowed radiance. These vast pre- 
cipices are streaked by a thousand waterfalls, which course 
down their face, leaping from rock to rock, now broken 



EXQUISITE SCENE. 



235 



and dispersed, now uniting again, hundreds of feet lower 
down, and covering the huge and sombre mass of crags 
with an exquisite net-work of silver threads. On the left, 
the lake is girt by a broad belt of deep and variegated 
wood, in which the pine, the larch, and the fir predominate, 
and are woven together by a thick undergrowth of shrubs 
and bushes. The contrast between the luxuriant vegeta- 
tion and cheerful aspect of this side, and the gloomy 
precipices and eternal snows across the water, is most 
striking and impressive. Next to the Jungfrau, the 
Blumlis Alp is the most graceful in form of all the moun- 
tains of the Oberland, and when seen, as it is from the 
opposite bank of the lake, set in a rustic frame of moss- 
grown branches, the effect is beautiful beyond description. 
So fair, so solemn, so perfect a scene is hardly to be found 
elsewhere. 

While my wife sketched, I wandered along the shore of 
the lake, which was clothed with thick wood to the water's 
edge. Some of the firs were noble trees, and many were 
decorated with rich fringes of the pine-tree moss. On 
turning from the shore, I found myself almost immediately 
entangled among a great accumulation of massive boulders, 
strewn in wild confusion over a great extent of land, from 
between which the tall trees sprang up, and which were 
coated with lichens and moss, and concealed by dense 
thickets of bramble-bushes and shrubs. They had evidently 
lain where they were, for centuries, and I was much 
puzzled to conjecture whence they came. They are too far 
from the side of the valley, to have rolled from the heights 
which flank it ; but they were so well protected by the 
underwood, that it was impossible, without appliances 



236 



WILD FRUITS. 



which we had not with us, to see what they were, how they 
lay, or what was the character of the deposit. So far as I 
could make out, they did not look like the components of 
a moraine ; nor was it easy to see how a moraine should 
have come there. Among the woods were vast quantities 
of excellent wild fruits ; the blackberry, the blueberry, the 
cowberry, and the deep red shining cloudberry, or mountain 
bramble, (rubus chamcemorus) — by far the most luscious of 
Alpine wild fruits* — the wild strawberry and wild raspberry 
grew in great profusion, and supplied us, at little pains, 
with a delicious dessert. It was the most wonderful spot 
for wild fruits I have ever seen ; and all were ripe and full 
of flavour. 

Peaceful as the tranquil waters seemed to us, they had 
not always worn that gentle aspect. A part of the bank 
to the South of the wooded belt is composed of a mass of 
bare, dark-grey shingle, compacted together by a smaller 
grit, like the deposit of a glacier stream. Here, there is 
no visible outlet. The stream which drains the lake bursts 
forth, about half a mile off, in the innumerable springs 
before mentioned, which force their way through the 
marshy ground. It is said that a few years back the 
waters rose, covered all this expanse of flat shore with 
shingle, and, in one place, cut a channel for themselves, 

* Withering says of the cloudberry : " the fruit is uot unpleasant," 
(it deserves far higher praise thau this negative commendation), 
" and held to be an excellent anti-scorbutic. The Norwegians pack 
them in wooden vessels, and send them to Stockholm, where they 
are used as dessert and made into tarts. The Laplanders bury them 
under the snow, and thus preserve them from year to year." I am 
surprised they have not been cultivated in England. There are not 
many nicer fruits. 



TOO COLD. 



237 



ten or twelve feet deep, through which they rushed madly, 
bearing before them trees, rocks and boulders, and spread- 
ing desolation far and wide. The dry channel remains to 
this day, a lasting monument of the power of the torrent. 
This stony deposit is singularly unproductive ; not a blade 
of grass will grow upon its barren surface, but, curiously 
enough, the gentiana ciliata nourishes with remarkable 
vigour and freshness of colour. I have never seen such 
fine specimens as here, where not a single other herb or 
plant of any kind is to be found. According to our 
usual custom on such occasions, we had brought a good 
lunch of cold chicken, bread and cheese and wine with us, 
and were therefore enabled to spend from four or five 
hours upon the banks of this charming lake. I resolved 
to enjoy the luxury of a bathe, and, seeking a convenient 
spot, stepped in (I did not venture upon a header, for I 
did not know what the bottom might be) ; I plunged in, 
far out of my depth, and for the moment was alarmed ; 
the icy coldness of the water was beyond anything I had 
ever felt, and appeared to take away all power and nerve. 
It was with some difficulty that I pulled myself out of the 
water ; swim away from the side, I dared not ; the cold 
would probably have produced almost immediate cramp. 
I had had nearly enough of bathing in a glacier lake. 
Balmat, who tried it after me, found it equally impossible 
to remain in the water. 

We had started from Frutigen at nine, and taken a char 
to Ivandersteg, where we hired a saddle-horse for my wife, 
and reached our destination about half-past twelve. It 
was five, before we reluctantly turned our backs upon this 
exquisite scene, and we reached Frutigen at eight in the 



238 



FRUTIGEN. 



evening; an hour too late, for the 12th of September. 
As I have mentioned Erutigen, I cannot forbear recording 
my pleasant recollections of the Hotel de Helvetie (or 
Hotel de la Poste). It is an -unpretending inn, dut the 
very picture of cleanliness and comfort, and the kindness 
and hospitality of the hostess were beyond all praise. 
I have mentioned, in a subsequent chapter, what hearty 
and unaffected kindness we experienced from the landlord, 
when, after our six hours' walk in the heavy rain, descend- 
ing from the Tschingel, he gave up to us his own bed- 
room, and lent us certain clothes, in which we cut a dis- 
tinguished figure among the guests assembled in the 
salle-a-manger. H. and I had always cherished a grateful 
sense of the simple and genuine hospitality shown to us 
on this occasion, and had lost no opportunity of recom- 
mending the inn to the favourable consideration of other 
travellers, both by word of mouth and by entries in the 
various travellers' books, and in consequence had really 
been of some service to the host ; and I had done the 
same thing, when travelling in Switzerland in 1853. The 
people of the inn were aware that they had profited by my 
recommendations, and when I arrived from Leukerbad, 
in 1854, with my wife, I was received more as a welcome 
and honoured guest than as a customer. I had sent 
word by a friend, that we were coming, and we found a 
beautiful glass of freshly cut flowers on the toilette table. 
Nothing could exceed the attention and kindness of these 
simple and warm-hearted people, during the two or three 
days that we spent in this lovely valley, excursioning 
from Erutigen, and returning every evening to a wholesome 
meal, a cordial welcome, and clean and quiet quarters. 



FRTJTIGEN . 



239 



The landlady had a long chat with us, before we started 
for Thum, and descanted eloquently upon the charms of 
the neighbourhood, (which, in truth, it would be difficult 
to exaggerate), adding that they had a pretty farm-house 
on the mountain sides, where she hoped, if we ever came 
again, we would pay her a visit, and see something more 
than we had done, of the beauties of the valley. I ought 
to add, that in no instance have I ever heard of any one 
being otherwise than pleased with the excellence of the 
accommodation, which is only surpassed by the moderation 
and honesty of the charges. It is a pleasure to me to have 
an opportunity of recording my grateful remembrance of 
the kindness and attention I have experienced, on every 
sojourn at this hospitable house. 



CHAPTER XIT. 



EXCURSIONS AND EXPLORATIONS IN THE NEIGH- 
BOURHOOD OF INTERLAKEN. 

The virgin mountain, wearing, like a queen, 
A crown of everlasting snow, 
Shed ruin from her sides ; and men below 
Wonder that aught of aspect so serene 
Can link with desolation. m 

WORDS WORTH. 

Flemmmg looked, and beheld a scene of transcendent beauty. 

Longfellow (" Hyperion " 



UNKNOWN TREASURES OE SCENERY ABOUT INTERLAKEN — THE 

HARDER DANGEROUS GRASSY SLOPES — TRAGICAL EATE OF A 

LADY — MAGNIFICENT PRECIPICES — AN UNCOMFORTABLE SEAT — 
ABOVE THE STAUBBACH — THE GUMIHORN — A SECOND JUNGFRAU 
— BEAUTIFUL WOODLAND PATH — DEEP SNOW— STRIKING PANORAMA 
— AN INTRACTABLE STEED. 

The country about Interlaken ought to be well known, 
but it is not so ; the numerous tourists who crowd the 
hotels and pensions are as little aware of many of its 
greatest beauties as the natives of Timbuctoo ; even the 



THE HARDER. 



241 



people of the country are but very imperfectly acquainted 
with the treasures of scenery which are within easy access 
on every side. During several visits, of more or less length, 
to this delightful spot, I have explored a considerable 
part of the surrounding district ; and though far from 
having exhausted the beauties of the neighbourhood, I am 
inclined to think the excursions I am going to mention 
are those which will best repay the traveller. The first 
is one which is by no means unknown, but which still 
deserves, in my opinion, a far greater degree of attention 
than it has at present attracted. Most of the rest would, 
I believe, be new to ninety-nine hundredths of the 
natives. 

Across the bridge over the Aar, on the road to Brientz, 
a path leads to the left, up the Harder, the mountain 
range which rises immediately behind Interlaken to a 
height of some four or five thousand feet. It is in excellent 
condition, and lies through thick and shady woods, which 
at length give way to a bright green slope, terminating 
in a soft and verdant ridge. The view comprehends the 
Lake of Brientz, the Yalley of Lauterbrunnen, and the grand 
chain of the Bernese Alps. It is a spot easily reached on 
horseback, commanding such a view as is rarely to be had, 
even at the expense of much greater labour, and yet not one 
in fifty of the visitors at Interlaken is tempted to ascend. 
It is not above two or three hours' pleasant walking or 
riding from Interlaken, and is too easy of access to be 
thought much of. 

Some caution, however, is necessary in descending, as 
one is generally tempted to do, down the grassy slopes 
which surmount the belt of woods, instead of keeping well 

M 



242 



A SLIP. 



to the West, where the woods reach nearly to the top, and so 
returning by the path. These slopes are far steeper than they 
look, and, when baked by the hot sun for weeks, are more 
slippery than is readily believed. I once clambered straight 
up from the bridge over the Aar, making my way through 
the thick forest of fir and beech, stopped here and there 
by faces of perpendicular rock, which break out of the 
ground, and which it is necessary to turn, and emerging at 
about two-thirds of the height of the ridge, upon the steep 
slope of dry wiry turf, which stretched in one unbroken 
surface from the edge of the woods to the top. I found it 
very difficult to ascend, and when I got near the summit, it 
was so dry, so hard, and so steep, that I was obliged to go on 
my knees and pull myself up by the roots of the grass, or 
anything else I could cling to. I was seriously alarmed, for 
had I slipped, it is difficult to see what could have arrested 
my fall. The sun was so intensely hot, and it was such 
hard work, that finding a shrub at the top, underneath 
which the dew still lingered, I was glad to throw myself on 
my face, and suck the moisture from the herbage, On another 
occasion, I had ascended with several friends, and we were 
all descending these grassy slopes, when some, who were 
about a hundred yards behind the rest, called out to know 
if what they saw before them was an actual precipice ; it 
was nothing but the steepness of the slope that made it 
appear so. Soon afterwards, one of the party slipped, and 
was unable to stop himself. With great presence of mind, 
he threw himself over by a sudden effort on to Iris face, and 
spreading out his arms and legs, and digging his fingers 
into the ground, succeeded in checking his descent. 
Xobocly could have helped him, and had he not stopped 



MELANCHOLY ACCIDENT. 



243 



himself, lie would, in all probability, have slipped with in- 
creasing velocity for some hundreds of feet, and shot over a 
precipice which happened to be below, between us and the 
belt of wood. His finger-nails were all broken in the effort 
to save himself. 

Seen from below, the slope appears so gentle that this 
description would scarcely be credited — but it is strictly 
accurate. A melancholy accident which occurred in 1850, 
on the other side, where the descent is of the same charac- 
ter, but more rapid still, attests its truth. An English 
lady staying at Interlaken, one day took the path, and 
wandered on till she came to the summit. Here she met 
an Italian courier belonging to another party, also at 
Interlaken, and pleased at her exploit, begged him to cut 
her initials on a tree, that she might thus prove to her 
friends how far she had rambled. He complied, but in 
doing so, broke his knife ; with the superstition common to 
his race, startled at the omen, he implored her to turn back, 
saying that some calamity was impending. She laughed at 
the prognostication, and having induced him to complete 
his task, strolled on along the ridge. She never returned, 
and next day her mangled remains were found, some 
thousands of feet below, on the other side of the mountain. 
Her foot had slipped and she had began to roll ; she had 
seized a young sapling, hoping to arrest her progress, but the 
impetus was too great; it snapped, and was found in her 
grasp when the body was discovered. Her money, jewels 
and watch were safe; the watch, having been stopped by 
the blows it received, marked the hour of the accident, and 
showed that it took place but a few minutes after she had 
parted from the courier. I have twice ascended, and once 

M 2 



244 



FINE CRAGS. 



descended these grassy steeps, and have seldom performed 
a more dangerous task — easy as it looks. The peasants 
who mow the grass on the sides of the mountain wear 
crampons, otherwise even they could hardly get up and 
down with safety. 

A very interesting point of view, all but unknown, is 
attained by turning off from the Lauterbrunnen road, a 
short distance beyond the junction of the two Lutschinen, 
and ascending the valley on the right, which leads up to 
the snows of the Schilthorn. To reach the summit of the 
Schilthorn is a long affair, and may be more pleasantly 
effected from the Lauterbrunnen side ; but by climbing 
the side of the valley on the left, and then turning towards 
the northern extremity of the range, you arrive, at length, 
beneath some of the finest specimens of bare and rugged 
precipices that this part of Switzerland affords. There 
are some chalets near this spot, and any of the peasants 
will guide you to a path which leads back into the valley, 
down the face of a wall of rock as steep and apparently as 
utterly impractible as any in Switzerland. I made this 
excursion in 1850, and have not repeated itj I made no 
note of it at the time, and therefore do not speak of the 
track with the same confidence as I generally can ; but, 
as far as I can trust my recollection, I have hardly ever 
seen a more magnificent wall of crags, than that at the 
base of which we arrived. We had attempted to ascend 
the Schilthorn, but time failed us, and we were delayed 
by a ludicrous accident. We had pursued the course of 
a stream, until we were stopped by some rocks which we 
could not climb. It became necessary, therefore, to mount 
the bank of the torrent, to the turf slopes, a couple of 



AN UNCOMFORTABLE SEAT. 



245 



hundred feet above. This bank was very steep, but at 
first was easily scaled, as there were many large rocks and 
boulders, which gave us footing; about half way up, 
however, these ceased, and the bank was composed of a 
hard, gritty earth, very well compacted, and upon which 
the alpenstock and the toes made little impression. The 
foremost of our party, attempting to mount straight up, 
arrived at a curious piece of projecting rock, about the size 
and shape of a saddle-peg. He got astride, to rest, and 
found he could not stir; above, the bank was all but 
perpendicular, and below, he had so scraped the surface 
with his struggles to get up, that he could obtain no 
foot-hold at all, to get down again. There he was, with 
his face to the wall, seated across the peg of rock, and 
there he was obliged to remain, till we could cut a set of 
slanting footsteps up to the rock, along which a passage 
could be safely effected to a tongue of turf which hung 
down lower than the rest, some fifty or sixty yards off. 
The hardness of the material may be judged from the 
fact, that to cut these steps cost us more than an hour's 
hard work. 

The next excursion I shall mention is better known than 
the foregoing, but not nearly so much so as it ought to 
be. Near Lauterbrunnen, a narrow track zig-zags to the 
top of the ridge over which the Staubbach falls. Mounting 
by this path, and crossing the stream above the fall, where 
it looks insignificant enough, in comparison with its world- 
wide fame, you come to rich and beautiful pasture-grounds, 
extending along the whole length of the valley of Lauter- 
brunnen, and supported by the formidable wall of precipices 
which flank that valley. Passing through the chalets of 



246 



THE GUMIHORN. 



Miirren, you descend again upon the valley of Lauter- 
brunnen, near the entrance of the Seefinen Thai. The earlier 
part of this route forms one approach to the passage of the 
Puree; but, without taking that expedition, all who can 
spare the time will do well to make the trip here pointed 
out, as for the whole distance the traveller is face to face 
with the Jungfrau, which he sees rising in one unbroken 
mass from the very base to the summit. This is the finest 
view of the Jungfrau, and of the western extremity of the 
main chain, that the Oberland affords ; and what mountain 
in Switzerland, perhaps in the world, will compare, for 
perfect union of grace and majesty, with the "Maiden 
Alp ?" 

Opposite to the range of the Harder, and separated from 
it by the valley of the Aar, rises another mountain chain, 
to the height of about seven thousand feet. In Eudolf 
Gross's excellent map, this is marked as the Gumihorn, 
which is doubtless its correct appellation, though 1 have 
heard it more than once called the Morgenberg by the 
peasants (a name not unsuited to its position, lying to the 
East, as the Abendberg to the West, of Interlaken). It is 
a range similar in general appearance to the Harder, save 
that it is much higher, and crowned by a frowning barrier 
of precipitous rocks. I first climbed it in 1850, but 
have never met with any one else who had made the 
ascent. In 1854, I determined to take my wife to the 
summit, and engaged a horse and guide ; but I found the 
guide had never been there, so that I had to show him the 
way. It was late in September (the 24th), and the snows 
of autumn had begun to fall. We had descended from 
Rosenlaui to Beichenbach, the morning before, in a thick 



A SECOND JUNGFRAU. 



247 



snow-storm, and the mountains round about were covered 
with a mantle of white, to within two or three thousand 
feet of the plain. It was a winter view of the Alps, such 
as I had never seen before, and in the bright sunshine of 
a clear morning, was exquisitely beautiful. Every neigh- 
bouring height seemed, as if by magic, to have been 
converted into a glacier-mountain. Our route lay, by the 
Lauterbrunnen road, to the hamlet of Gsteig, where we 
were to cross the Liitschinen and commence the ascent, 
and as we proceeded, the valley of Saxeten, which is flanked 
on the West by the Abendberg, and on the East by the 
chain of the Sulegg, opened on our right, terminated by a 
fine mountain called the Schwalmeren. At this moment ; 
a most remarkable phenomenon presented itself ; we saw 
two Jungfraus. Never was illusion more perfect, and the 
longer we looked, the more difficult was it to say, disregard- 
ing position, which was the true one and which the false. 
The mountain at the head of the valley of Saxeten was 
converted by the fall of snow into an exquisite copy of 
the Queen of the Alps. The only difference was that the 
imitation, strange to say, was unquestionably more beau- 
tiful than the reality. But every peak and every glacier 
of the one found its exact and faithful counterpart in 
the other. The Silberhorner were reproduced with mar- 
vellous fidelity, and I believe that if one had been taken 
blindfolded to the spot, and told to look up the valley of 
Saxeten, it would have been impossible to detect the 
deception. "When we returned in the evening, the hot 
sun of mid-day had done its work, the disenchantment 
was complete, glaciers and snow-clad summits had faded 
into dark and gloomy crags, and we were unable to 



248 



WOODLAND PATH. 



discern the slightest trace of resemblance between the two 
mountains. 

The range of the Gumihorn comes to an end in a series 
of abrupt precipices, just beyond Gsteig, whence it runs 
back for some miles, in a North-easterly direction, parallel 
with the Lake of Brientz. Crossing the stream, we com- 
menced the ascent : 

" The mountain-skirts, with all their sylvan change 
Of bright-leaved chesnuts and mossed walnut trees, 
And the frail scarlet-berried ash began. 
Swiss chalets glittered on the dewy slopes, 
And from some swarded shelf high up, there came 
Notes of wild pastoral music." 

The path leads through thick woods, (broken, here and 
there, by patches of upland meadow) which clothe the 
side of the mountain for about the first two thousand feet. 
The overhanging branches and tangled underwood showed 
how little it was used, and we had sometimes a difficulty 
in clearing a passage for the rider as well as the horse. 
This part of the excursion was exquisitely beautiful. For 
the first thousand feet or so, the woods were composed 
chiefly of splendid beeches, but mingled with them was a 
sprinkling of ash, chesnut and walnut, which gave a 
pleasant variety of form and colour. Through their interlac- 
ing branches, we caught unexpected views of the Lakes of 
Thun and Brientz and the smiling plains which nestle 
beneath the shelter of the many ranges converging upon 
Interlaken. These glimpses came so suddenly upon us, 
ever and anon, from some opening in the wood, and in the 
bright sunshine all nature was so radiant and lovely, that 



BREITLAUINEN. 



249 



we seemed to be taking furtive peeps into fairyland. We 
wound our way amongst the stems of noble trees, and 
through rocks green with a rich carpet of moss, or by the 
side of a bank of wild flowers, laden with heavy dew and 
scenting the air with their grateful fragrance. 

After the beeches came a belt of pines, firs and larches, 
separated from the lower strip of less mountainous trees 
by a broken line of verdant meadow-land where the wild 
flowers bloomed with great purity and loveliness. "We 
were struck with the great beauty of a very familiar little 
flower — the common milkwort, which grows in remarkable 
strength and abundance ; parts of the meadow looked 
quite blue with it. We found also, the large yellow 
fox-glove {digitalis grandiflora), winch had a very brilliant 
effect. The air was fragrant with beds of wild thyme. 
The tall yellow sage {salvia viscosa) was conspicuous, from 
its size and the clearness of its colour. In the lower 
woods, on many of the banks, and clustered against many 
of the large stones, were quantities of the delicate asple- 
nium ruta-murana } (rue-leaved spleenwort) splendidly 
fruited. Beyond the meadows, near the upper skirts of 
the fir-woods, I gathered a noble specimen of the dark blue 
mountain centaury, growing in solitary pride. 

By and bye, we left this pleasant woodland scene, and 
entered upon a broad tract of sloping pasture-ground, 
dotted with cattle-huts and chalets, (called the chalets of 
Breitlauinen) where all trace of a path was lost. After 
winding our upward way, for half an hour or more, over 
these pastures, we found the ground crisp with the frost, 
and the slips and stumbles of the horse, as well as the 
proximity of the snow, warned us that it was time to dis- 

m 3 



250 



DEEP SNOW. 



mount. We left our Bucephalus iu charge of the "guide/ 3 
while my wife, the faithful Balmat and myself continued our 
ascent. We soon got into the snow, which lay thickly 
upon everything, so that it was difficult to tell on what we 
were stepping. Once, we plunged into a thicket of blue- 
berries and wild raspberries, upon which we levied black 
mail as we passed. The mountain became steeper and 
steeper at every pace, and the snow lay deeper, till we 
were zig-zagging in six inches of snow. It was laborious 
enough for my wife, who had to place herself between the 
two alpenstocks, in the manner I have described before, 
when speaking of our visit to the Jardin. 

There is a white chalet on the sward, not far from the 
belt of trees, conspicuous from Interlaken. Nearly above 
this chalet, is a point or two in the arete of rocks, where 
they may be scaled without difficulty ; but we found it 
more advisable to skirt their western extremity, where we 
stumbled upon a path which evidently led up from some 
place below, and round the end of the ridge — probably into 
the valley of the Black Lutschinen — but which had been 
hidden from us by the snow. Following this for a short 
distance, we found ourselves able to ascend higher, behind 
the rocks which form the summit of the range, and in a 
few minutes more, clambered over a great collection of 
huge boulders, and reached the brink of a bold cliff, which 
terminates the ridge, and at the foot of which we had 
passed round its extremity, hundreds of feet below. 

To my mind, the Gumihorn affords the finest point of 
view in this part of the Oberland. You stand at the point 
of junction Of four of the noblest valleys in Switzerland. 
In one direction, you gaze up the valley which leads to the 



STRIKING PANORAMA. 



251 



Lake of Brientz ; in another, down that which ends in the 
Lake of Thun ; further to the left, the eye fairly rakes the 
Valley of Lauterbrunnen with its thousand silvery falls, of 
which the Staubbach is hardly the most beautiful, closed 
in by the imposing glaciers of the Tschingel and the Balm ; 
while, in a fourth direction, you command the whole length 
of the valley of the Black Liitschinen, which leads up to 
Grindelwald, and which, backed by the dazzling masses of 
the Eigher, presents a vista of hardly less magnificence. 
You are face to face with the whole chain of the Bernese 
Alps, from the Tschingel pass in the South-west to the 
Shreckhorn at the opposite extremity, set off by the dark 
masses of the Wengern Alp in front, whose summit is con- 
siderably below you. 

These are the main features of the panorama, but none 
of the accessaries required for a perfect picture are want- 
ing. There are dark, wooded mountains near, intersected 
by profound valleys whose green slopes are dotted with 
chalets, and fruitful plains sparkling in the sunshine with a 
bright and emerald green. Beneath the spectator fall 
away on every hand abrupt and shaggy precipices, whose 
bold outlines are broken here and there by a solitary moun- 
tain pine growing audaciously out of a cleft in the rock. 
From no other spot can so admirable a view of the whole 
of the Bernese chain be had; and the panorama is far 
more complete and beautiful than that from the Faulhorn. 
It will readily be conceived that the scene is never to be 
forgotten by any one who has been fortunate enough to 
behold it. When we saw it, the view was more striking 
than usual, on account of the immense quantity of snow, 
which came much below its usual line on the mountain 



252 



BUCEPHALUS REFRACTORY. 



sides. The consequence was that the great Alps of the 
Oberland looked greater and more majestic than ever. 

While we looked, the sun became obscured, a light haze 
settled gently upon the snowy tops, and fell solemnly like 
a dark curtain upon the wondrous scene. We took the 
hint, and began our descent, trudging back through the 
deep snow. It was an hour and a half, before we regained 
the spot where we had left the horse, which my wife was 
glad enough to remount, as soon as we found a convenient 
bank in the wood. Her satisfaction, however, was of 
short duration, for scarcely had she touched the saddle 
when the animal began to kick and plunge furiously, 
backing to the edge of the path, which was entirely unpro- 
tected, with almost a precipice below, and it was abso- 
lutely necessary to dismount as quickly as possible. 
Lower down, when she was getting tired, I mounted him 
myself, to see if he was in a more tractable mood; but 
was barely in the saddle, before he commenced such a 
series of struggles as showed that it would never do for a 
lady to trust herself to his back ; and she was accordingly 
obliged to walk all the way to Gsteig. It was the pressure 
of the crupper that had irritated the beast ; once upon the 
plain, he behaved quietly and reasonably enough. 

It had been a good day's work for a lady ; we had started 
soon after eight, and had loitered on the ascent, so that we 
did not get to the top till two, nor back to Interlaken 
before half past six. I knew that I had myself made the 
excursion in about five hours, and did not allow sufficiently 
for the difference of circumstances ; besides which, the 
snow had greatly impeded us. We had calculated upon 
returning by three or four, and had taken only a single 



SHORT COMMONS. 



253 



roll with us, instead of our usual abundant provision for 
the mountains ; and as we found a strong desire for dinner 
come over us about mid-day, it may be conceived that we 
were somewhat ravenous before we returned. However, 
" All's well that ends well;" and our landlord suffered for 
our enforced abstinence. I have never before seen snow 
upon the Gumihorn, and under ordinary circumstances, 
the excursion might easily be made, even by a lady, in 
seven or eight hours. I trust it will not long remain so 
little known as it has hitherto been. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



THE PASSAGE OF THE TSCHINGEL GLACIER, FROM 
LAUTERBRUNNEN TO KANDERSTEG. 

These lonely regions, where, retired 
From little scenes of art, great nature dwells 
In awful solitude, and nought is seen 
But the wild herds that own no master's stall. 

Thomson. 

dafiearos dp' kvwpro ylXwg fxaicdpsGcn. 

Hom. 



THE LAUENERS — THUNDERSTORM — THE JUNGFRAU BY MOONLIGHT 
—UPPER VALLEY OF LAUTERBRUNNEN — A ROUGH LADDER — THE 

GLACIER — RASH BEES AND BUTTERFLIES — A HERD OF CHAMOIS 

ANOTHER STORM: — A WET WALK — KANDERSTEG — FRUTIGEN — A 
MASQUERADE. 

I passed across the Tscliingel glacier, on the way from 
Lauterbrunnen to Kandersteg, in 1852, in company with 
two friends, H. and W. We walked up on Monday 
afternoon, August 30th, from Interlaken to Lauterbrunnen, 
where our first care was to inquire for the Laueners, who 
were, and still are, the best guides in the Oberland. 



THUNDER STORM. 



255 



Johann and Ulrich, the two elder brothers, were away ; but 
we secured the services of the third brother, Christian, a 
fine, intelligent, smart-looking fellow, of some two or 
three and twenty, above six feet high, and without an 
ounce of superfluous flesh to carry. "We left the selection 
of a second guide to him, arranging to start at half-past 
four in the morning, if the weather should permit, of which 
there seemed some doubt : for a violent thunderstorm had 
begun about five o' clock, and the flashes of lightning and 
the peals of thunder were almost incessant during the whole 
of the evening. There was no rain, but over Interlaken 
and towards Thun, the clouds were very heavy ; and often, 
full a third of the whole expanse of the heavens was one 
vivid sheet of blinding light. When we went to bed, the 
moon was shining brilliantly in at the windows ; but her 
mild radiance was continually lost in the fierce glare of the 
lightning. My companions were soon fast asleep ; but, for 
some reason or other, I lay hopelessly awake. I looked 
out of the window at half-past one, by which time the moon 
had crept a long way round, and was behind the house. 
Her light was sleeping gently on the snowy summit of the 
Jungfrau; and no trace or sign of the storm remained. 
Luckily, I fell asleep soon after, to be aroused in about a 
couple of hours by the pitiless boots, who performed his 
task of waking us only too faithfully. The scene was still 
of the same lovely character, till a little after four, when 
the cold, grey tints of early dawn began to mingle with the 
softer light of the moon. 

We found Christian Lauener awaiting us below, 
with his father, a hale old fellow of about sixty, for 
our second guide. Our preparations were soon made, 



256 



BEAUTIFUL ASCENT. 



and, by about a quarter past five, "we got fairly under 
weigh. Christian Lauener led off at a good, sharp, five- 
mile-an-hour pace, which we kept up till we came, in about 
an hour, to a chalet called Stechelberg, where the path 
becomes a good deal steeper. Here, we began a most 
beautiful ascent, having below us on our left the wild 
torrent which comes tumbling down from the cascade of 
ths Schmadribach. On our right was the opening of the 
Seefinen Thai, looking towards the Puree, by which we 
might have passed in front, instead of at the back of, the 
Blumlis Alp, to the place of our destination, Kandersteg. 
Guarding this opening were the rugged precipicesof the 
Spitzhorn, towering aloft for thousands of feet. On our 
left were the glaciers of the Breithorn, fantastically and 
fearfully crevassed, rising into pinnacles and towers of ice, 
Through an arch in one of them we could see the bright 
blue sky beyond. 

Our path lay among rough but verdant pastures, with 
here and there, patches of boggy land, covered with rich 
yellow masses of the creeping marsh marigold {caltha 
radicans). Then we passed through dark pine woods, 
festooned with rich fringes of lichen, many inches long, and 
among and over great boulders and blocks of rock, covered 
with mould, or overgrown with moss. Thus we continued, 
among soft and luxuriant vegetation, for an hour or more, 
with all kinds of wild flowers and beautiful grasses about 
us ; campanulas of many sorts and sizes, viper's buglass, 
milkworts, * wild strawberries, bilberries, and several other 
species of vaccinia — among them the large, dark, shining, 
red fruit of the cloudberry, (rubus chamcemorus) as juicy 
and luscious as a currant, which grows more freely in this 



THE LOWEIt GLACIER. 



257 



part of the Oberland, and by the shores of the CEschinen 
Lake, than in any other place I know — all laden with the 
fresh and heavy dew of the morning, until sometimes the 
way seemed paved with diamonds. The sun was already 
high in the cloudless heaven, but the gigantic wall of ice 
on our left shaded us till nearly eight o' clock, when we 
met the edge of the descending shadow, just as we emerged 
on to some steep pasture-grounds, commanding a noble 
view of the Schmadribach cascade and the head of the 
valley."* After zig-zagging up these for some time, and 
passing near the chalets of Steinberg, where people some- 
times sleep, or rather, don't sleep, in order to shorten the 
day's work, we refreshed ourselves at the last clear water 
we were likely to meet with for some hours, and after a 
short clamber over some rough stones at the foot of the 
glacier, at about twenty-five minutes past eight, set foot 
on the lower Tschingel glacier. The lower and upper 
glaciers of the Tschingel are both parts of the same great 
mass of ice ; but where the upper glacier falls over a steep 
ledge of rocks, above the Schmadribach, it is so fearfully 
crevassed, that you must leave it for a time, and clamber up 
the rocks that skirt it, till you have got above the imprac- 
ticable part. The old plan used to be to strike across the 

* A mule or horse can come nearly as far as this spot, and it 
makes a most charming excursion for a lady. The upper valley of 
Lauterbrunnen is one of the finest scenes in the Obeiiand. I 
brought my wife as far as here, in 1 854, and we were accompanied 
by another lady and gentleman. From Lauterbrunnen, the excursion 
is a very moderate one, and should not be omitted if a day can be 



258 



A PRIMITIVE LADDER. 



glacier,* in a slanting direction, towards the left, and then, 
leaving the bad part on your right, to mount the rocks on 
the South side of the glacier, till you could enter it again 
on the upper plateau. But there was some danger in this, 
as you had to pass under a part of the glacier which is 
apt to send down avalanches and showers of stones on to 
the slope beneath. The present plan is to keep always to 
the North, or right side of the lower glacier, and after some 
forty minutes' climbing up its sloping surface, and among 
crevasses which demand some little care, to approach the 
rocks on the right, at a place a short distance from where 
blocks of ice and stone often fall, and there to quit the 
glacier for the rocks. You may know the part which 
these falling blocks make it dangerous to approach, 
because it is just where the passage looks the easiest, and 
where you would be inclined, if without experience, to 
make the ascent. 

Here we turned sharply to the right, so as to face the 
rock, and found ourselves at the foot of an overhanging 
crag, thirty or forty feet in height. The only way to get to 
the top was by a ladder, consisting of a single stick of pine, 
with rungs set across, and projecting on each side. 
It is laid in a notch of the rock, and the foot steadied 
by two or three large stones placed against it. We 
mounted this, and landed on a mere ledge of rock, scarcely 

* This and some of the following sentences may perhaps be re- 
cognised as bearing a close resemblance to one or two of the notes in 
Mr. Murray's most useful Handbook. It is but fair to myself to say 
that I had the pleasure of communicating the notes in question to 
Mr. Murray. 



INSECTS. 



259 



wider than a goat's path, and scrambling up a few paces 
on our hands and knees, round a projecting part of the 
rock, came to a little gully, down which there was a 
water-course. It was thirty or forty yards across, and very 
steep ; the earth was a hard, black grit, which scarcely took 
the alpenstock, covered with loose, shingly stones, which 
gave way beneath the foot, and, a few yards below, rolled 
over a precipice. However, we got across somehow, and in 
a few minutes were all five assembled on the green slope 
beyond, discussing a bottle of wine and some bread, meat 
and cheese. 

Eor forty minutes after this, we toiled up a laborious, 
steep ascent, including one " mauvais pas," and diversified 
by occasional patches of snow. The way lay chiefly over 
stunted grass and loose stones thrown down by the glacier 
above us. The barrenness of this spot formed a striking 
contrast to the luxuriance of the vegetation, one or 
two thousand feet below. A solitary forget-me-not was 
the only flower we saw. But we were now near the upper 
glacier, and saw little of either animal or vegetable life. 
There were not many flies to annoy us, though the heat 
was very great, and the butterflies and bees were few and 
far between.* 

About half past ten, we at length reached the upper 

* On almost every glacier pass I have taken, I have found 
here and there, dying on the glacier, bees and butterflies, and, more 
rarely, flies. They appear to have roamed till they have come over 
the ice, where the cold has been too great; they have become 
numbed, and have sunk on the snow, never to rise again. I have 
found them at a height of nearly fourteen thousand feet above the 
level of the sea. The bees have generally, if not always, been drones. 



260 



THE UPPER GLACIER. 



glacier. Before us lay a vast extent of snow, unbroken to 
all appearance by a single crevasse ; from which rose, on 
our right, the summits of the Tschingelhorn and the 
Blumlis Alp, and further on, the Doldenhorn — sheer 
precipices of dark rock, with here and there a ledge, or a 
more gentle slope, on which lay piled up deep masses of 
snow, or from which hung down a small secondary glacier, 
much crevassed and broken. On our left, across the 
glacier, lay the Gspaltenhorn, and other portions of 
the main chain, their steep sides and rounded tops, co- 
vered with dazzling snow, and glittering in the hot sun- 
shine; while before us, in the very middle of the vast 
basin we were about to cross, rose up the crags of the 
Mutzlihorn, between which and the Blumlis Alp lay our 
path. Looking behind, we saw the whole chain, from 
where we stood to the Jungfrau, with huge glistening 
glaciers on high and shaggy precipices beneath : beyond, 
we could just see the sharp cone of the Eiger towering into 
the sky. Here we donned our spectacles and veils, guides 
and all; we should have been half blinded without them. 
Christian Lauener took the lead, in high spirits, which he 
was obliged to let off in an occasional shout. We now 
plodded across the glacier for an hour and a half, making 
occasional detours, to avoid hidden crevasses. This part 
of the glacier looked like a vast undulating meadow- 
tract, covered with deep snow. Once, we descended a 
little way, and at length began to mount the last slope, 
which was tolerably steep. The sun was out, and it was 
very hot work, but before we reached the top, clouds came 
up, the sun was hidden, and a smart shower nearly wetted 
us through, and chilled us to the very bones. 



A HEED OP CHAMOIS. 



261 



At twelve o'clock precisely, we crested the summit, where 
a most magnificent prospect down the Gasteren Thai burst 
upon our view. To the left was the swelling, dome-like 
glacier of Balm, over which a difficult and laborious, but 
very grand, pass leads down the Lotsch Thai to the valley 
of the Ehone ; and beyond the Balmgletscher, the Lotsch- 
berg, stretching low down into the valley. The Lotschhorn 
was lost in the gathering clouds, which threatened at 
least a storm. On the right was the continuation of the 
magnificent chain under which we had so long been passing, 
but still more rugged, wild, and black than before. 

It was too cold to stay long at the summit, and we began 
to descend rapidly towards the Gasteren Thai. This slope, 
however, having a southern aspect, the sun had told upon 
it with considerable effect, and we were often knee- deep in 
the half-melted snow. Presently, the increasing crevasses 
showed that we were approaching a rapid descent, where 
we must quit the ice. In fact, the glacier pours over a 
precipice into the valley below, and is broken up into a 
thousand fantastic and curious shapes. 

Soon after leaving the summit, we saw a young chamois 
and its dam, a few hundred yards off, racing across the ice. 
The motion of their legs was just like that of race-horses in 
full gallop. We watched them for some minutes, till they 
dashed down a precipice, or ridge of snow, where they 
seemed to find their companions, as immediately afterwards 
five or six more appeared in sight, rushing down the 
glacier, and bounding over the crevasses, till they were lost 
to the view. The Laueners, who are great chamois hunters, 
became very much excited, hollaed as if they would crack 
both cheeks and lungs, and could hardly keep themselves 



262 



A RACE. 



from setting off after the fugitives. It is a rare chance for 
any but the hunter to see a herd such as this ; I have been 
much, since then, among the high glaciers, and in places 
frequented by the chamois, but have never seen such a sight 
again. 

About half-past one, we left the glacier, and got on to a 
steep rock, covered here and there with stunted grass ; the 
spot is well known, as there is a little stream of clear 
spring water trickling close to the glacier, by which 
we sat down and spent half-an-hour very profitably, in 
lightening Christian Lauener's knapsack of eatables. 
Bread, cheese, meat, wine, brandy and water disappeared as 
effectually as the banquet in the "Tempest," but with a 
happier result ; for we set off like new men, raced down 
the slopes, as if in emulation of the chamois, and in about 
ten minutes, had descended above a thousand feet, and 
bounded over a heap of moraine on to the lower part of the 
glacier, which was dirtier than any other glacier I ever saw 
— much crevassecl, full of pools, and covered with stones, 
mud and filth. And now the rain, the thunder, and the 
lightning began in earnest, and we were not sorry when, 
at three o' clock, just six hours and a half after we struck 
upon the ice — the last hour of which had been spent chiefly 
in jumping, slipping and rolling — we finally left the glacier. 
We now descended rapidly by a rough and bad path, 
for a considerable time, until we reached some chalets and 
a green pasturage, from which point the path was better 
defined. We passed a great herd of goats, sheltering 
under rocks, and apparently quite cowed by the storm. 
They followed us a long way, and were very troublesome 
in their desire to fraternize. 



A DRENCHING. 



263 



The clouds and rain hid most of the scenery; but 
every now and then a huge glacier loomed out from the 
mist, almost overhead, and we could see enough to 
convince us of the savage grandeur of the Gasteren Thai. 
Hundreds of waterfalls, swollen by the heavy rain, were 
now in all their glory, some of which descended with 
a roar and a crash like those of an avalanche. The 
stream which flows down the valley, usually inconsider- 
able, was already a fierce and formidable torrent, some- 
times nearly filling up the valley, and its numerous 
tributaries came foaming across our path, so that in hun- 
dreds of places where generally you pass dry shod, we had 
to leap for it, or get a ducking. Lower down, the water 
became more formidable, and we had ample proof of the 
marvellous rapidity with which streams may rise in moun- 
tainous countries. At length, the valley contracted to a 
steep and rocky gorge. We passed under a rock, as big 
as a house, which Christian Lauener said fell down only 
the year before, and arrived at last at a place where the 
rocks so nearly meet as to leave a mere cleft, through 
which the impetuous torrent chafed and roared and thun- 
dered, in its mad career towards the distant sea. Crossing 
the furious stream by a narrow bridge, we emerged, 
at five o ; clock, into the rich Kander Thai, and in twenty 
minutes more arrived at Kandersteg. We had determined 
not to sleep at this place, but to push on to Erutigen, to 
escape the bad quarters at Kandersteg, and as we had been 
exposed to continuous and very heavy rain since two 
o'clock, we could not have ridden, with safety; so we 
just called for a glass of wine, and lighting our cigars, 
started again for Frutigen. We thought we were already 



264 



A MASQUERADE. 



as wet as we could be; but before we had walked the ]ong 
eight miles to Frutigen, we fouud it was possible to be a 
good deal wetter ; and very glad indeed we were when, 
soon after seven o' clock, we reached the excellent and most 
hospitable Hotel de Helvetie, sodden, tired and hungry. 

It would be ungrateful not to add that the people of the 
inn " showed us no small kindness." The house was 
quite full; but the landlord not only gave up his own 
room to us, but supplied us with three complete suits of 
his own clothes, in place of our reeking garments, in 
which we cut figures that would have established our 
reputations in a charade, or in private theatricals. The 
landlord was very short and fat, whereas two of us were 
spare, and one was six feet in his stockings. Then there 
was a deficiency of braces, supplied in part by girdles 
made out of a piece of red tape, which somehow or other 
had found its way into one of our knapsacks. The task 
of allotting the various garments was no easy one, and 
the result beggared all description. W., who has rather 
an anxious face, and is short-sighted, peered out uneasily 
from between two gigantic shirt collars, in which the bulk 
of his face was buried, while the unnatural distension of 
his coat tails, (about four inches long) by the^extreme bag- 
giness of what was underneath, gave him altogether a 
ruffled and injured appearance. H. reminded one of the 
long charity boy who always gets the smallest coat, and 
whose sleeves do not come much below the elbows. The 
observant traveller will at once realize one part of my dress, 
when he is told that I went all over the house in search of 
my pocket-handkerchief, and after having quite given it up, 
found it at the bottom of my trousers' -pocket, somewhere 



REMARKS. 



265 



between the knee and the ancle. "When washed and 
dressed, we fell into long peals of laughter at one another ; 
the prelude only to what burst forth — unsuppressable even 
by Trench politeness — from the other guests, when we en- 
tered the salle-a-manger. We had the satisfaction of feel- 
ing, that if not witty ourselves, we were at least the occa- 
sion of much wit on the part of our companions. 

I think the Tschingel pass would be taken to greater 
advantage, as regards scenery, by crossing from Kandersteg 
instead of from Lauterbrunnen. The view of the great 
range of the Jungfrau and the connected peaks must be very 
sublime, in descending from the summit of the pass towards 
Lauterbrunnen. The ascent, however, is more steep and 
laborious on the Kandersteg side, and the snow generally 
more wet and uncomfortable, from its southern exposure. 
It is not difficult, for a glacier pass ; there being no 
possibility of mistaking the general direction, and one 
good guide is quite sufficient, if there is not much baggage 
to be carried. Indeed, I think it might safely be crossed 
without a guide, by two or three persons, one of whom was 
well acquainted with the structure of glaciers. For one 
person alone, a long glacier pass is almost always dangerous, 
however good a mountaineer he may be, especially where, 
as in this case, the chief risk arises from crevasses concealed 
by snow, into which the traveller might easily fall, if he 
made a mistake as to the direction to be taken in any 
particular part ; and if he were alone, it would probablv 
be quite impossible for him to extricate himself. Lauener 
often avoided a direction which we, who at that time had 
but little experience of the glaciers, should certainly have 
chosen, the next year : Balmat whom I have so often 

K 



2G6 



EXPENSE. 



mentioned as a thoroughly prudent man, set off, with my 
brother and myself, to make the pass under my guidance ; 
but we were driven back by bad weather before we got far on 
our journey. I think, therefore, it is a pass which does not 
require so much of purely local knowledge as many others. 
It makes a very good introduction, in point of difficulty, to 
the high glacier expeditions, while in magnificence of scenery 
it is second to very few passes that I know. The expense 
also is moderate, as compared with most of the great glacier 
passes. Each guide expects twenty francs, and one or 
two more by way of trinkgeld. The landlord of the inn 
at Lauterbrunnen is extortionate in his charges for pro- 
visions as well as for most other things, and if I were to 
make the pass again, I should supply myself with provisions 
from Prutigen or Interlaken, as the case might be, where 
they would be procured better and cheaper than at 
Kandersteg or Lauterbrunnen. At the Hotel de Helvetie 
(the Post hotel) at Erutigen, as I have already mentioned, 
I have always experienced in a high degree both honest 
treatment and genuine hospitality— rare virtues in the 
Obeiiand. 



ASCENT 



CHAPTER XIV. 

OE THE WETTERHORN. 



Thou wert to me, 
That minute, with thy brow in Heaven, 
As sure a sign of Deity 

As e'er to mortal man was given. 
Nor ever, were I destined yet 

To live my life twice o'er again, 
Can I the deep-felt awe forget — 
The ecstasy that filled me then ! 

Moore. 

J'avoue, que si Ton m'avait demande mon opinion sur la 
possibilite d'escalader le Wetterhorn de ce cote, j'aurais vraisem- 
blablement declare la chose impossible. — Desor. 



RESOLUTION TO ASCEND THE WETTERHORN — " SAMPSON " — 
LAUENER — START FROM GRINDELWALD — DESCRIPTION OE THE 
WETTERHORN — BOHREN — THE ENGE — THE FLAG — SALUTE FROM 
BELOW — SUNSET — NIGHT ENCAMPMENT — UNCOMEORTABLE 

QUARTERS — SOLEMN SCENE EARLY MORNING ROCK 

DIFFICULTIES — THE UPPER PLATEAU — PIRATES THE LASI 

ROCKS — HAZARDOUS ASCENT — OVERHANGING CORNICE — 
STARTLING ARRIVAL AT THE SUMMIT — NARROW EDGE — 
MAGNIFICENT PANORAMA — SEEN FROM GRINDE LWALD — 
PLANTING THE FLAG AND THE FIR-TREE — FAILURE OF PREVIOUS 

. N 2 



268 



A FORTUNATE ENCOUNTER. 



ATTEMPTS — AWFUL DESCENT — " TO THE HEALTH OP THE 

WETTEEHOEN " A EACE ON THE EOCKS AND A EOLL ON THE 

ICE — TBOUBLESOME PLOCK OF SHEEP — FEU DE JOIE — SAFE 
AEKIYAL — BLACK FACES — EXCITEMENT AT GEINDELWALD — 
EEMAEKS. 

Towards the end of my tour in 1854, I was anxious 
to make some more considerable glacier expedition than 
I had been able to effect during the course of that journey. 
We were staying at Interlaken ; and, as I gazed upon the 
graceful form of the Jungfrau, which rose opposite the 
window at which I sat, an irrepressible longing came over 
me to win that lofty and difficult summit, and look down 
upon the boundless prospect that must stretch on every 
side. I had crossed many a lofty Col, and wound my way 
among many a labyrinth of profound and yawning crevasses. 
I had slept on the moraine of a glacier, and on the rugged 
mountain side ; but I had never yet scaled any of those 
snowy peaks which rise in tempting grandeur above the 
crests of Cols and the summits of the loftiest passes. The 
ascent of the Jungfrau would be an achievement that 
would worthily crown the autumn's campaign. I took 
Balmat into my counsels ; and he was delighted at the 
prospect. He could hardly conceal his satisfaction, though 
we agreed to say not a word about the matter, until all 
was in train ; and, in the course of the evening, he came 
to me in great exultation. He had fallen in with a 
Chamouni friend, who had just terminated an engagement, 
and was about to return home. He was one of the best 
mountaineers that could be found, Balmat said; of great 
strength, endurance, courage and prudence, and well 
acquainted with the glaciers, and would be of the greatest 



" SAMPSON." 



269 



service in any difficult expedition. He was going to stay 
a day or two at Interlaken, for the chance of further em- 
ployment, and Balmat would take care not to lose sight 
of him. I went out and had a chat with him, and found 
him a man of great size and strength, with an air of 
modest self-reliance which promised well. His name was 
Auguste Simond ; but it was not long before we altered it 
to Sampson, on account of his powerful frame. Balmat 
said he had seen him hold out a man at the end of his 
arm. 

The next day, we made an excursion to Lauterbrunnen, 
to take counsel of Ulrich Lauener,* the most renowned 
guide of the Oberland, an elder brother of Christian who, 
two years before, had been my guide over the Tschingel 
pass. Unfortunately, he was gone to Grindelwald ; and 
when we came back from a visit to the upper end of the 
valley, near the Schmadribach fall, (an expedition perfectly 
practicable for ladies, and of no common interest) he was 
still absent. We, therefore, left word for him to come the 
next day to Interlaken, and seek us at the Hotel de la 
Jungfrau. Accordingly, the following afternoon, on 
returning from the Giesbach Falls, we saw a tall, 
straight, active, knowing-looking fellow, with a cock's 
feather stuck jauntily in his high-crowned hat, whom I 
recognized at once as possessing the true Lauener cut, 
perched on the railings in front of the hotel, lazily dangling 
his long legs in the air. He was soon closeted with us, 
and questioned as to the possibility of ascending the 

< Johann, mentioned in the last chapter — the eldest of the three 
brothers — was dead. He had fallen over a precipice, in his eager 
chase of the chamois, and had perished. 



270 



ULRICH LAUENER. 



Jungfrau. It could be done, he said, but would take* six 
clays, as we must go, by way of the Grimsel, to the back of 
the chain and ascend from the chalets of Merglen. This 
was an expenditure of time I was not prepared for ; and I 
asked if we could not mount from the side of the Grimsel. 
He said it was possible in the height of summer, but not 
now ; it was too late in the season. I asked if it could 
not be compassed, by taking proper measures. He replied 
by an expressive shake of the head, and a " Nein, nein, 
Hen* ; man muss zwei ]S T achtt3 am- Gletscher schlafen ; und 
die ]NTachte sind zu lange ; es macht sehr kalt am Eis/' 
(No, no, Sir; you must sleep two nights on the glacier, 
and the nights are too long ; it is very cold on the ice) . 
I knew something of what a night on the glacier meant, 
and could quite believe that, with the scanty stock of 
appliances we should be able to carry, and without the 
possibility of making a fire, the cold would probably be 
intolerable, and was reluctantly obliged to abandon the 
idea of reaching the summit of the Jungfrau, that year. 
I then asked him if we could attempt the Finster Aarhorn 
or the Schreckhorn; but he made the same objection. 
The autumn was too far advanced to sleep on a glacier, 
which we must do in either case. The Wetterhorn next 
occurred to me ; and I asked him if that were practicable. 
He answered with a ready " Ja, ja, Herr," adding that no 
one had yet succeeded in the ascent ;* but he thought it 
was possible, and at all events worth the trial. 

* This was not strictly correct ; Desor, in his " Sejours et Excur- 
sions dans les glaciers et dans les hantes regions des Alpes," 
mentions an ascent by two of his guides and it is stated in 
"Murray's Hand-Book" that it was ascended in 1845 by a 



THE WETTERHORNER. 



271 



The resolution was quickly taken ; and we appointed to 
meet Lauener the next day, towards noon, at Grindelwald, 
whither he was to proceed, early in the day, to make all 
necessary preparations. The party was to consist of 
myself, with Lauener, Balmat and Simond for guides ; and 
I gave Lauener authority to engage a porter, should he find 
it necessary so to do, to help in conveying to our sleeping- 
place whatever might be required. My wife was to stay with 
her brother, for that night, at Grindelwald, where we hoped 
to rejoin them the next evening. Sampson was now 
spoken to, and retained ; and, with a caution to the men 

Scotch gentleman, named Speer. It is certain, however, that no 
one at Grindelwald appeared to have heard of any ascent of the peak 
of the Wetterhorn proper, previous to mine. There are two other peaks 
— the Rosenhorn and the Mittelhorn, both of which are classed with 
the peak I ascended under the generic name of " Wetterhorner," 
and have several times been attained ; in fact, they present no 
extraordinary difficulty, especially from the side of the glacier of 
Gauli. One of these summits may have been that referred to in 
"Murray." I should not have thought it likely that the fact would 
have been altogether forgotten, if the actual Wetterhorn had been 
reached before our attempt. Oiie of my guides was a Grindelwald, 
and another a Lauterbrunnen man, the former being one of a very 
numerous family, most of whom were mountaineers and hunters, and 
neither of them had heard of any previous successful ascent. They 
both spent the morning of the day on which we started, at Grindel- 
wald, where our preparations excited a vast deal of attention, but 
certainly did not hear such a fact mentioned by any of the Grindel- 
wald people, though several cases of failure were related ; and I am 
therefore inclined to think it probable the ascent spoken of in 
" Murray" must have been to one of the other summits. We were 
certainly regarded, at Grindelwald and in the neighbourhood, as the 
first adventurers who had succeeded, 



272 



PREPARATIONS. 



to drop no hint of our project at Interlaken, for fear we 
should ignominiously fail, we parted till the morrow. 

Next morning, (16th September, 1854) we started 
from Interlaken about eight, and proceeded by voiture to 
Grindelwald, which we found already full of the bustle of 
preparation. Many idlers were lounging about the doors 
of the inn, waiting our arrival ; and the guides' room was 
full of people smoking, chattering, and crowding about 
Lauener, who was packing a great basket with ropes, 
crampons, and other necessaries for an excursion of this 
sort. He called me aside, and begged permission to retain 
another guide, one Peter Bohren, of Grindelwald, who 
he said had been three times this season to the plateau 
out of which the peaks of the Wetterhorner spring, and 
would, therefore, prove a valuable auxiliary. I was some- 
what annoyed at having this additional expense put upon 
me, but did not like to oppose the wishes of the leading 
guide in such a matter, and assented ; so that I had four 
guides, besides which, we were obliged to hire a porter, as 
there was much to carry, making our party six in all. 
I ordered dinner for ourselves ; and while it was getting 
ready, went again to look at the preparations. I was a 
little staggered at their magnitude, and at the serious air 
of the men, who were far more grave and quiet than is 
usual on such occasions ; and I heard so much on every 
side of the difficulties and dangers we were to encounter, 
that I almost besran to fear we were bent on a rash enter- 
prize. However, I resolved we would run no foolish risks, 
and if we found the difficulties too great for us prudently 
to face, we would abandon the undertaking; but I was 
seriously afraid that, when I was gone, the people would 



CHEERING ADIEU. 



273 



alarm my wife with exaggerated accounts of the horrors 
of our track. 

The Chamouni men, who do these things in a more 
quiet and business-like manner than their fellows of 
the Oberland, were quite disgusted with the noise and 
confusion. Balmat said they made his head ache; and 
Sampson applied himself assiduously to encourage my wife, 
assuring her with a seriousness and solemnity which made 
us all laugh, that he would answer for my safety with his 
own, and that, if we did not run into danger, danger 
would not come to us. Altogether, I was glad when 
the hour of departure arrived. The landlord wrung 
Balmat' s hand, as we pushed our way through the crowd 
of loiterers, and issued from the inn. "Try/' said he, 
" to return all of you alive ; but — " he broke off, and 
shook his head gravely. Lauener and Bohren had pressed 
me to allow them to take a " Hagge" with them, to plant 
on the summit. I thought this seemed rather like a 
tempting of Nemesis, but yielded to their importunities ; 
and they now told me it was not ready, and asked to 
wait for it. I inquired where it was being made, and was 
told, to my surprise, at the blacksmith's. It seemed an 
odd place to go to for a flag ; but I supposed the black- 
smith was some mechanic of a versatile genius, who would 
be applied to for everything out of the common way, 
and asked no more questions, but told them to stay 
behind for the flag, and overtake the rest of us ; 
and then, bidding adieu to my wife and her brother, 
I set off at once, with Balmat and Sampson, very glad 
to escape the honours and inconveniences of distinction. 
The Wetterhorn consists, speaking very generally, of a 

n 3 



274 



THE WETTERHORN. 



huge mass of rock, perpendicular on every side, except where 
it joins the chain which runs back towards the Grinisel 
and the main chain of the Bernese Oberland, of both of 
which it is a kind of outwork. Its precipices are tremen- 
dous ; I know scarcely any to compare with them ; they 
rise from the valley of Grindelwald in one abrupt and 
shaggy wall for thousands and thousands of feet ; and are 
crowned by a vast plateau of snow, out of which spring 
three peaks — the Kosenhorn, nearest the Grimsel, the 
Mittelhorn and the Wetterhorn proper, which last over- 
hangs the Great Scheideck pass, from Grindelwald to 
Meyringen, and on that side is, literally, one sheer preci- 
pice from the bottom nearly to the summit, which soars 
proudly aloft, in a sharp, snow- clad peak, that seems to 
defy approach. Whether this or the Mittelhorn be the 
higher, is a point as to which some doubts have been 
entertained. There is not much difference; but we all 
thought that what slight difference exists is in favour of 
the sharper aud bolder summit of the Wetterhorn proper. 
It is of little consequence ; but, from its position and the 
uninterrupted nature of the view on the northern side, 
there cannot be a doubt that the Wetterhorn commands a 
finer view. There can be as little doubt that it is far 
more difficult of approach. This was the peak we deter- 
mined to assail. 

The North-western and South-western faces of the moun- 
tain are nearly at right angles to one another ; and beside 
the south-western precipices, the upper glacier of Grindel- 
wald streams down to the valley, guarded on one side by 
the Wetterhorn, on the other by the scarcely less awful 
crags of the Mettenberg, a spur of the Shreckhorn. This 



VALLEY OF GRINDELWALD. 



275 



glacier communicates with, and in fact descends from, the 
snowy plateau of the Wetterhorn. It pours round the 
interior extremity of the wall of rock described as forming 
one of its barriers, and which runs back from the valley of 
Grindelwald, till it loses itself in the general mass. The 
plateau of snow, seen from below, appears directly to 
overhang this flanking defence of the glacier ; but, in reality, 
a broad and deep valley lies between them, the upper end 
of which is filled partly by a glacier descending from 
beneath the actual peak of the Wetterhorn, partly by a 
range of precipices, two or three thousand feet high 
which, though apparently inaccessible, afford the only 
means of attaining the plateau. These precipices and the 
adjoining glacier are completely hidden from the spectator 
in the valley by the intervening ridge, which rises imme- 
diately above the glacier. In the hollow just described, 
we were to pass the night, and this spot, accordingly, 
formed the goal of our first day's journey. It was about 
five hours' walk from Grindelwald. 

It was half past one when we left the door of the hotel ; 
the sun was hot, and we walked slowly across the beautiful 
meadows which clothe the northern slopes of the valley of 
Grindelwald, and give to it that character of mingled 
loveliness and grandeur, for which it is so eminently dis- 
tinguished, and in which, so far as I know, the valley of 
Eee is its only superior. Balm at and I chatted pleasantly 
on the many scenes of glory we had witnessed together in 
various parts of Switzerland and Sardinia • now and then, 
we cast an upward glance at the great peak before us, and 
wondered whether we should find more difficulty in scaling 
the Wetterhorn, than in descending the icy arete of the 



276 



THE ENGE. 



Findelen, whether we should be as well rewarded for our 
toil as we had been on that eventful day, and whether 
Lauener would prove as excellent a guide as our good 
friend of Saas. The moments flew quickly by, and in less 
than an hour we were overtaken by Bohreh, who told us 
Lauener was still behind; but would soon be on our track. 

A few minutes afterwards, we halted for a moment at a 
chalet near the foot of the glacier, where Bohren's father 
lived, with a number of his almost numberless progeny, 
all of whom came forth, and with much interest bid their 
brother and ourselves, God speed. Bohren took it all 
very philosophically, borrowed a better pipe than his own, 
and a larger stock of tobacco, and set off again, smoking 
like a chimney-pot. Passing the end of the glacier, we 
made, first of all, for the great wall of rock which forms 
the side of the Scheideck pass, and after scrambling some 
distance up its face, by inequalities of the surface scarcely 
perceptible from below, gained a narrow goat-walk, (known 
as the Enge) which hugs the brink of terrible precipices, 
often but an inch or two from the path, and is itself sur- 
mounted by others equally formidable, the base of which 
we could sometimes almost touch with one hand, while a 
pebble dropped from the other would fall hundreds of feet 
before it touched the earth. The path, however, when 
you are on it, does not look so bad as this description 
might seem to imply ; little tufts of grass and brushwood 
grow freely on the edge of the precipice, and conceal from 
the eye its depth and its perpendicularity. This wild track 
leads, with little ascent, for about half an. hour, back, in a 
direction towards Grindelwald, till it arrives at the corner 
of the mountain, which is almost as square as if it were 



THE " FLAGGE." 



277 



the work of the mason ; it there takes a turn, and continues 
along the other face of the mountain, at right angles to its 
former course. At the angle, there was a little platform 
of sloping turf, just large enough for us all to lay our- 
selves clown in the sunshine, while waiting for Lauener. 

The view clown the valley and towards the snowy heights 
beyond, with the cataract of ice beneath our feet, was 
abundantly striking ; but my eye could not help wandering 
to the glittering spire of Grindelwald, as my imagination 
strove in vain to paint the scenes I should have gazed 
upon, before I was welcomed back again by those I had 
left behind me. While we lay on the grass, a magnificent 
avalanche came crashing down the precipices of the Shreck- 
horn, just across the glacier, and added to the great bank 
of dead white dust beneath, which told us that we looked 
upon a track which the avalanches were much wont to 
take. We had not long to wait ; a loud, clear, ringing 
shout of greeting, and a cheery laugh announced the pre- 
sence of Lauener ; and it did not require two glances to 
show why he had sought the blacksmith for the " Flagge." 
Strapped on his back was a sheet of iron, three feet long 
and two feet wide, with two rings strongly welded to one 
of the shorter edges, and he stood leaning upon a bar of 
the same metal, ten or twelve feet long, and as thick as a 
man's thumb. He pointed, first to the " Flagge/' and 
then with an exulting look on high, and set up a shout of 
triumph which made the rocks ring again. Bohren took 
up the note, and presently a chorus of wild shouts came 
faintly borne on the air from the valley below. It was 
Bohren's affectionate relatives, answering from the chalet at 
the foot of the glacier. 



278 



A " BETISE." 



Balmat and Sampson were men of less boisterous spirit ; 
and were far from delighted with either the " drapeau," or 
the shouting. Sampson went so far as to call the unwieldy 
iron machine, which cannot have weighed less than twenty 
or thirty pounds, a " betise," (which may be freely ren- 
dered " a confounded piece of nonsense") and Balmat 
thought it would be time to shout when we were here 
again, the next evening, on our way down. 

I could not help admiring Lauener's figure, as he stood 
there, straight as an arrow, more than six feet high, spare, 
muscular and active, health and vigour glowing in his 
open and manly countenance, his clear blue eye sparkling 
with vivacity and good temper, a slight dash of rough and 
careless swagger in his attitude and manner, which suited 
well with the wild scenery around, and made him look like 
the genius of the place. 

The path now directly overhangs the Upper Grindelwald 
glacier ; for some distance you descend, in order to avoid 
a torrent which leaps down the precipices above, and which 
there is not room to pass, except near the edge of the 
glacier. After crossing this stream, you ascend by a bank 
of moraine, and afterwards, in a slanting direction, along 
the face of the cliff. The rock is marked in Desor's map 
as gneiss, but the footing is so bad, that I took it for 
limestone, which is the very worst of all rocks to walk 
over. It is slippery and deceptive, to a degree not readily 
understood by those who are not familiar with it. " Oh ! 
le mauvais calcaire I" was an exclamation frequent enough 
on our lips, when compelled to walk in difficult places 
upon this treacherous stone. In many spots, steps had 
been hewn in the smooth slopes or slabs of gneiss, without 



A RAINBOW. 



279 



which it would have been very difficult and dangerous to 
traverse them. As it was, we slipped uncomfortably often, 
and w r ere very glad to reach a small shoulder of the moun- 
tain, round which the glacier comes pouring from the left, 
and which is covered with a rich carpet of luxuriant her- 
bage, affording excellent pasturage to the numerous flocks 
which are driven hither, and into the valley behind, to 
fatten during the summer months. From this shoulder, 
we had a few minutes of very steep descent, and then 
passed beneath a ridge of rocks which support, like a ter- 
race, the valley we were seeking. Several clear streams 
pour in beautiful showers, over the ledge thus formed. 
Above the head of one, a delicate rainbow played fitfully — 
a glory placed there by the Eternal hand. Further on, the 
ridge gave way to a bank of earth and boulder- stones, up 
which we climbed, and entered upon a turf slope, dotted 
with rocks rolled down from above, and occupying the bed 
of a broad valley. This valley was closed at the head by 
a glacier streaming from the base of the peak we aspired 
to climb, and by a wall of crags as hopeless, to all appear- 
ance, as the precipices of the Ghemmi. On our right was 
a range of lofty rocks, capped by the great plateau of ice, 
and on our left the ridge up whose opposite side we had 
fought our way, and behind which the glow of sunset had 
already flushed the western sky. 

Half an hour's ascent over the herbage and among the 
boulders brought us to a stone under which we were to 
pass the night. It was a splendid wild scene — no distant 
prospect, but we were in the very heart of the crags and 
the ice — surrounded by some of the grandest glaciers, and 
precipices in the Alps. I climbed alone a neighbouring 



280 



SUNSET. 



height ; the glacier, by whose side we had ascended, lay 
white and cold at its base ; but the tints of the evening sky 
over the mountains which border the valley of Lauterbrun- 
nen were wonderfully rich, while every peak and glacier 
around was bathed in a flood of purple : 

" O'er the vale 
Light falls like a thick veil of golden motes, 
And flings a glow, like a whole shower of roses, 
Over the face of the vast precipice.* 
No sight beside, no motion and no sound — 
Silence, the desert, and that solemn height. 
* * * Heaven's eye, the failing sun, 
Will soon be closed, and Darkness shall keep watch 
Over her her slumbering sister, Solitude." 

I cast one look towards that majestic summit upon which I 
hoped, before to morrow's sunset, to have stood, and 
returned to more practical cares and occupations, stimu- 
lated by a pleasing excitement, and filled with all that min- 
gled wonder, delight and awe, which takes possession of the 
soul, when evening falls amidst the solemn silence of these 
Alpine fastnesses, and which no man can, or would, repress. 

Night opes the noblest scenes, and sheds an awe, 
Which gives these venerable scenes full weight, 
And due reception in the intender'd heart. 

* I hope the Rev. Mr. White, should he ever chance to see these 
pages, will pardon the liberty I have taken, in altering two or three 
words in his very beautiful lines, to make them suit the context 
better than the original would have done. The alteration has been 
made, I can assure him, in no spirit of disrespect to the author of 
some of the most touching and poetical dramas that the modern 
stage has produced. 



" LA CHASSE." 



281 



I found our sleeping-den to consist of a low, arched cave, 
formed by two or three rocks, one of which, somewhat 
hollow on the under side, had fallen curiously upon the 
others, so as to make a kind of vaulted roof. Two sides 
were supplied by the boulders on which it rested, and in 
the course of time, the earth had so accumulated about 
them, that all round their bases they were hermetically 
sealed, and the ground without was two or three feet 
higher than the floor of the cavern. Mould had also 
gathered about their points of contact, so that the holes 
and crannies were filled up, and the shelter was complete. 
Only one narrow entrance was left, and the care of the 
hunters had blocked this up with stones, which we removed. 
There was barely room for one to enter at a time, and we 
were obliged to creep backwards through the aperture. 
Within, the hunters, whose calling had led them to sleep in 
this natural chamber, had strewn the floor of earth with a 
thick covering of short mountain hay, which gave an un- 
expected look of warrnth and comfort to the place. It was 
small enough for half a dozen men to sleep in ; it was 
difficult to see how we should all pack ; but at all events, 
we must try. Our first care — that is Balmat's and mine — 
was to inspect the blankets before it was quite dark ; for 
we did not think it likely that mine host of Grindelwald, 
would have lent us his best and cleanest ; and it turned out 
to be as well that we had done so. We were not left quite 
"all alone by ourselves/' we found, when we came to lie 
down. Certain reminiscences of chalet life were obtruded 
upon us, as it was ; but we should have been much 
worse off, if we had not made "la chasse" to begin 
with. 



282 



NIGHT ENCAMPMENT. 



The men had brought up with them a stock of wood — for 
was none to be grubbed up here, as at the Tacul ; and 
abundance of fresh water was supplied by a brawling 
glacier stream, which leaped and bounded over a rocky 
bed, by the side of our queer little hut. A fire was 
lighted outside, and some good black coffee made. The 
supper was not so luxurious as at the Tacul. TTe felt the 
want of that refinement of good cheer, which the company 
of a lady gives a fair excuse for indulging in. There was 
no boiled cream, or cold chicken, this time. A mug of 
coffee without milk, a hunch of cold veal, and a log of sour 
bread, carved with one's pocket knife, formed the evening 
repast. But it was a cheerful meal, and a hearty one, for 
all that ; and the great, bright stars looked down upon us 
with a merry twinkle in their roguish eyes, as if they too 
eujoj'ed the fun. There was no moon, and the vast, white 
glaciers gleamed faintly through the night, like the battle- 
ments of phantom-castles. 

At length, the supper was over ; the coffee pot and cups 
were rinsed clean in the noisy stream ; the fire was carefully 
trodden out, that none of our scanty stock of fuel might 
be wasted ; a light was struck ; and one by one we 
entered the cavern, and laid ourselves down in our places. 
They gave me what they meant to be the place of honour 
— at the opposite extremity of the cavern, away from the 
entrance; but it was where the floor was highest, and the roof 
was lowest, (and it was nowhere high enough for a man 
to stand upright). "When we were all arranged, the candle 
was put out, and we were left in the thick darkness. Sud- 
denly, the three Swiss struck up a hymn in German. 
They sang well; there was a good tenor and a rich, 



COMFORTABLE. 



283 



manly bass. The effect, in that strange place, in " dark- 
ness visible/' couched as we were beneath the shadows of 
the eternal mountains, was inexpressibly solemn ; when 
the song of praise was sung, no one spoke, and presently 
the deep breathing all around announced that most of them 
were sunk in sleep. 

I must say, I was desperately uncomfortable ; they had 
built up again the aperture by which we entered, and what 
with the smell of the hay, and the presence of so many per- 
sons, the air soon became insufferably hot and close ; a great 
fellow (Lauener, I think) had laid his head on my feet, and 
when I moved further back to get rid of him, he followed, 
even in his sleep, and insisted upon using me for a pillow. 
I moved back half-a-dozen times, but invariably with the 
same result, and at length I was in the corner ; I could 
retreat no further, the roof was cold and clammy, not six 
inches from my face, and the air stifling. Had I been 
near the entrance, I should have made my escape ; but I 
could only do that, by walking over the prostrate bodies of 
four or five other men, in their first deep and sweet sleep, 
after a good day's work, and with we knew not what before 
them on the morrow. I waxed restless and feverish, and all 
chance of sleep deserted me. The cold veal seemed to rise 
up in judgment upon me ; and I thought of " Pierre 
I/Echelle/' and his potato supper. I passed a miserable 
night. I could not, however, fail to be struck with the 
solemnity of the place and time ; all night long, I lay in 
palpable darkness, beneath a hollow rock, and on a bed of 
stones, with a foaming glacier torrent brawling past my 
head, not six feet from me, save for the noise of which, 
all nature was still and silent as the grave. 



284 



ESCAPE. 



This profound tranquillity, however, was broken b 
frequent and startling interruptions ; 

All in a moment, crash on crash, 

From precipice to precipice, 
An avalanche's rains dash 

Down to the nethermost abyss, 
Invisible ! The ear alone 

Pursues the uproar, till it dies ; 
Echo to echo, groan to groan, 

From deep to deep replies. 

Silence again the darkness seals, 
Darkness that may be felt. 

It was eight o'clock, when we entered the cave : I lay 
uneasily for many hours, but at length I could endure it 
no longer ; I spoke to Balmat, who was near me, and found 
he too was very uncomfortable, and we agreed to make 
our escape. We got across the sleepers, somehow, knocked 
out the stones, and emerged. Oh ! how grateful was that 
cool fresh air ! how refreshing that draught at the moun- 
tain torrent ! The stars were shining as I never saw them 
before in my life, like so many balls of fire in the black 
concave ; the glaciers were sparkling in the soft light of 
the waning moon, now in her fourth quarter. It was just 
two o' clock, but not cold, and a bracing air blew briskly, 
yet pleasantly, from the North-west. I had been up before 
the sun, many a morning, on many a mountain height, 
and had seen, I thought, almost every phase of Alpine 
night-scenery ; but so beautiful a nocturnal view as this 



EARLY MORNING. 



285 



I never yet had beheld ; it spoke well for the promise of 
the day. Presently, some of the men came out, a fire was 
kindled, and tea and coffee made. I stripped, and had a 
bathe in the dashing torrent ; it was icy-cold, but did me 
more good than the weary night in the hole. Balmat 
and I were urgent with Lauener to start as early as 
possible, for we all expected a long day, and we wished 
to reach the snow while it was yet crisp ; but he refused 
to start before half-past four, saying that in an hour we 
should reach the glacier, and that the moon was not bright 
enough to light us across it. It was still dark when, at 
the hour appointed we set off, and for some time we groped 
our way by the help of a lantern. During the first hour 
and a half, we mounted amongst a mass of debris, and 
amidst great boulders of rock, which lie below, or form 
part of, the terminal moraine of the glacier. It was 
disagreeable walking in the dark, and we were frequently 
stumbling and falling. Long before we reached the glacier, 
day had began to dawn, and a cold, clear grey was steal- 
ing over the sky. 

" Lo ! on the eastern summit, clad in grey, 
Morn, like a horseman girt for travel, comes ; 
And from his tower of mist 
Night's watchman hurries down." 

I could not help thinking, despite Lauener's precautions, 
that we might perfectly well have traversed the glacier 
before daybreak, as there was but one crevasse of any 
magnitude, which we crossed without much difficulty. 
We were nearly an hour upon the ice, on leaving which 



286 



ROCK DIFFICULTIES. 



we approached the abrupt wall of rock I have spoken of 
before, as affording the only means of access to the upper 
plateau. It turned out to be not absolutely precipitous, 
but full of small ledges and steep slopes covered with loose 
stones and schisty debris, which gave way at every step. 
The substratum appeared to be a sclristaceous gneiss, very 
friable and much disintegrated by the weather ; so that 
every particle had to be tried, before it was safe to trust 
hand or foot to it. It was extremely steep ; very often 
the ledges which gave us foot-hold were but an inch or 
two wide, and throughout, it was a marvel to me that 
rocks which, from a short distance off, looked such 
absolute precipices could be climbed at all. At length, 
we came to a very singular formation. Standing out from 
a nearly perpendicular wall of rock were a series of thin 
parallel wedges of rock, planted, with the thin edge 
upwards, at right angles to the body of the mountain, 
and separated from one another by deep intervening clefts 
and hollows. Each of these was two or three hundred 
feet in height, seventy or eighty in width at the base, but 
narrowing off to the thickness of a few inches, and pre- 
senting, at the top, a rough and jagged ridge, forty or fifty 
feet long, by which we must pass, to reach the plateau which 
lay just beyond. We first climbed to the top of one of these 
wedges, and then had to make our way along its crest. 

It was nervous work; a good head, a stout heart, a 
steady^ hand and foot were needed. Lauener went first, 
carrying a rope, which was stretched by the side of the 
ridge, so as to form a protection to the next passer. 
Bohren went next; then came my own turn. It was 
certainly the worst piece of scrambling I ever did. The 



VIEW OE GRIN DEL WALD. 



287 



rock was much shattered by exposure to the frost and 
snow, and there was hardly a single immoveable piece, 
along the whole length. Every bit had to be tried before 
it was trusted to, and many were the fragments (some, as 
large as a shoulder of mutton, and something of that 
shape) which came out, when put to the test, and went 
crashing down till out of sight, making an avalanche of 
other stones as they fell. I passed my right arm over 
the top of the ridge, and thus secured myself, having the 
rock between that arm and my body, on one side, and the 
rope stretched below me, on the other. Every one had to 
pass much in the same way, and it was a long quarter of 
an hour before we were all safely landed on the snow 
beyond. 

A few minutes later, we came to the brink of a preci- 
pice on the Grindelwald side, and here, for the first time 
to-day, we had a view of that rich and verdant valley, 
which looked lovelier than ever, by contrast with the 
desolation which surrounded us. We could not only 
distinguish the village, but, as we thought, the inn, which, 
with the telescope, we made out easily enough. It was 
from the brink of a dizzy height that we looked down ; 
stones that we kicked over were out of sight in a moment, 
and were heard, at distant intervals, striking against the 
precipice as they fell, till the sound gradually died away in 
the silence of distance. A small quantity of black debris jut- 
ted out of the snow, upon which we sat down, at nine o'clock, 
to take our morning meal. 1 had been ill with indigestion, 
all the way up, but thanks to the fresh air of the moun- 
tains was at length recovering, and felt quite ready for a 
meal • but, to my mortification, I found all the meat they 



258 



GARLIC EOR EVER ! 



had brought tainted with garlic — the object of my pe- 
culiar detestation. I could not eat a mouthful, and a 
crust of bread, from time to time, with a cup of mingled 
wine and snow, was all my food throughout this laborious 
day. 

At this spot, we left everything we had brought with us, 
except a flask of brandy and our alpenstocks. The sticks 
the Oberland men carried were admirably suited for their 
work. They were stout pieces of undressed wood, with the 
bark and knots still upon them, about four feet long, shod 
with a strong iron point at one end, and fixed at the other 
into a heavy iron head, about four inches long each way ; 
one arm being a sharp spike, with which to hew out the 
ice, where needed, the other, wrought into a flat blade, with 
a broad point, something like a glazier's knife. This part 
of the instrument was extremely useful in climbing rocks. 
It ran into clefts and fissures too high to be accessible, or 
too small to admit the hand, and, once well planted, formed 
a secure and certain support. Tin's kind of alpenstock is 
hardly ever seen at Chamouni. Our ice hatchet on the 
Col du Geant and the Col Iinseng was perfectly different, 
though better adapted to the mere ice- work we had then to 
perform ; and its great utility, called forth repeated expres- 
sions of admiration from the Chamouni men, to whom it 
was new. The Swiss men put on their crampons and 
offered some to us ; but we (that is, Balmat, Sampson and 
myself) preferred the double-headed points I have mentioned 
before, of which we had brought a stock from Chamouni, 
and which we screwed into our boots. Crampons are 
hardly safe things to wear, unless you are accustomed to 
them, and I found Balmat, who knew perfectly well how to 



THE LAST ROCKS. 



289 



use them, uniformly reject them. We now fastened our- 
selves all together with ropes,, and commenced the last 
ascent. It lay near the edge of a long and steep ar£te, 
which connects the Mittelhorn with the Wetterhorn; at 
the place where we gained the plateau, the ridge was nearly 
level, but almost immediately began to rise sharply towards 
the peak. We were now at the back of the mountain, as 
seen from the valley of Grindelwald, which was, of course, 
completely hidden from the view. When we had stopped 
to take something to eat, we were at an extremity of the 
ridge which runs up to the actual summit, and, as it were, 
peeped round a corner. We were not to see the valley 
again, till we stood upon the summit. 

The ascent was rapid, and commenced in deep snow ; but 
it was not long before the covering of snow became thinner, 
and the slope more rapid, and every minute a step or two 
had to be cut. In this way, we zig-zagged onwards for 
nearly an hour, in the course of which we made, perhaps, 
a thousand feet of ascent, having the satisfaction, every time 
we could look round, to see a wider expanse of prospect risen 
into view. About ten o' clock, we reached the last rocks ; 
which were a set of black, sloping, calcareous crags, whose 
inclination was hardly less than that of the glacier, left bare 
by the melting of the snow ; they were much disintegrated by 
the weather, and the rough and shaly debris on their surface 
was, for the most part, soaked with the water that trickled 
from the snows above. Here we sat down and unharnessed 
ourselves. It was neither too hot nor too cold. A gentle 
breeze tempered the heat of the sun, which shone gloriously 
upon a sparkling sea of ice-clad peaks, contrasting finely with 
the deep blue of the cloudless heaven. 

o 



290 



PIRATES. 



While we had been making our short halt at the edge 
of the plateau, we had been surprised to behold two other 
figures, creeping along the dangerous ridge of rocks we had 
just passed. They were at some little distance from us, but we 
saw that they were dressed in the guise of peasants, and when 
we first perceived them, Lauener (who was a great hunter 
himself) shouted excitedly, "Gems-jagers V but a moment's 
reflection convinced us that no chamois-hunter would seek 
his game in this direction ; and immediately afterwards, 
we observed that one carried on his back a young fir 
tree, branches, leaves and all. TTe had turned aside a 
little to take our refreshment, and while we were so occu- 
pied, they passed us, and on our setting forth again, we saw 
them on the snow slopes, a good way ahead, making all the 
haste they could, and evidently determined to be the first at 
the summit. After all our trouble, expense and prepara- 
tions, this excited the vehement indignation of my Cha- 
mouni guides — they declared that, at Chamouni, any one 
who should thus dog the heels of explorers and attempt to 
rob them of their well-earned honours would be scouted ; 
nor were they at all satisfied with the much milder view 
which the Oberlanders took of the affair. The pacific Bal- 
mat was exceedingly wroth, and muttered something about 
" coups de poigns/' and they at length roused our Swiss 
companions to an energetic expostulation. A great shout- 
ing now took place between the two parties, the result of 
which was, that the piratical adventurers promised to wait 
for us on the rocks above, whither we arrived very soon 
after them. They turned out to be two chamois-hunters, 
who had heard of our intended ascent, and resolved to be 
even with us, and plant their tree side by side with our 



"bons enfants." 



291 



" Flagge." They had started very early in the morning, 
had crept up the precipices above the upper glacier of 
Grindelwald, before it was light, had seen us soon after 
daybreak, followed on our trail, and hunted us down. 
Balniat's anger was soon appeased, when he found they 
owned the reasonableness of his desire that they should not 
steal from us the distinction of being the first to scale that 
awful peak, and instead of administering the fisticuffs he had 
talked about, he declared they were " bons enfants" after 
all, and presented them with a cake of chocolate ; thus the 
pipe of peace was smoked, and tranquillity reigned between 
the rival forces. 

Once established on the rocks, and released from the 
ropes, we began to consider our next operations. A glance 
upwards, showed that no easy task awaited us. In front 
rose a steep curtain of glacier, surmounted, about five or six 
hundred feet above us, by an overhanging cornice of ice 
and frozen snow, edged with a fantastic fringe of pendants 
and enormous icicles. This formidable obstacle bounded 
our view, and stretched from end to end of the ridge. 
What lay beyond it, we could only conjecture; but we 
all thought that it must be crowned by a swelling dome, 
which would constitute the actual summit. We foresaw 
great difficulty in forcing this imposing barrier ; but after 
a short consultation, the plan of attack was agreed upon, 
and immediately carried into execution. Lauener and 
Sampson were sent forward to conduct our approaches, 
which consisted of a series of short zig-zags, ascending 
directly from where we were resting to the foot of the 
cornice. The steep surface of the glacier was covered 
with snow ; but it soon became evident that it was not 

o 2 



292 



HAZARDOUS ASCENT. 



deep enough to afford any material assistance. It was 
loose and unconrpacted, and lay to the thickness of two 
or three inches only ; so that every step had to be hewn, 
out of the solid ice. Lauener went first, and cut a hole 
just sufficient to afford him a foot-hold while he cut 
another. Sampson followed, and doubled the size of the 
step, so as to make a safe and firm resting-place. The 
line they took ascended, as I have said, directly above the 
rocks on which we were reclining, to the base of the 
overhanging fringe. Hence, the blocks of ice, as they 
were hewn out, rolled down upon us, and shooting past, 
fell over the brink of the arete by which we had been 
ascending, and were precipitated into a fathomless abyss 
beneath. We had to be on the qui vive to avoid these 
rapid missiles, which came accompanied by a very ava- 
lanche of dry and powdery snow. One, which I did not 
see in time, struck me a violent blow on the back of the head, 
which made me keep a better look out for its successors. 
I suggested, that they should mount by longer zig-zags, 
which would have the double advantage of sending the 
debris on one side, and of not filling up the footsteps 
already cut with the drifts of snow. Balmat's answer, 
delivered in a low, quiet tone, was conclusive. " Mais ou 
tomberaient-ils, monsieur, si, par un malheur, ils glis- 
saient ? A present, il y aurait la chance que nous pour- 
rions les aider; mais si on glissait a cote — voila, 
monsieur \" pointing to a block of ice which passed, a 
little on one side, and bounded into the frightful gulf. 

For nearly an hour, the men laboured intently at their 
difficult task, in which it was impossible to give them help ; 
but, at length, they neared the cornice, and it was thought 



OVERHANGING CORNICE. 



293 



advisable that we should begin to follow them. Balmat 
went first, then I, then Bohren, and the two chamois 
hunters, who now made common cause with us, brought 
up the rear. We were all tied together. We had to 
clear out all the foot-holes afresh, as thej were filled with 
snow. A few paces after starting, when we were clear of 
the rocks, I ascertained the angle of the slope, bj planting 
my alpenstock upright, and measuring the distance from 
a given point in it to the slope, in two directions, vertically 
and horizontally. I found the two measurements exactly 
equal; so that the inclination of the glacier was 45°; 
but at every step it became steeper ; and when, at length, 
we reached the others, and stood, one below another, close 
to the base of the cornice, the angle of inclination was 
between 60° and 70°! I could not help being struck 
with the marvellous beauty of the barrier which lay, still 
to be overcome, between us and the attainment of our 
hopes. The cornice curled over towards us, like the 
crest of a wave, breaking at irregular intervals along the 
line into pendants and inverted pinnacles of ice, many of 
which hung down to the full length of a tall man's height. 
They cast a ragged shadow on the wall of ice behind, which 
was hard and glassy, not flecked with a spot of snow, and 
blue as the "brave overhanging" of the cloudless firma- 
ment. They seemed the battlements of an enchanted 
fortress, framed to defy the curiosity of man, and to laugh 
to scorn his audacious efforts. 

A brief parley ensued. Lauener had chosen his 
course well, and had worked up to the most acces- 
sible point along the whole line, where a break in 
the series of icicles allowed him to approach close 



294 



" BLUE SKY !" 



to the icy parapet, and where the projecting crest 
was narrowest and weakest. It was resolved to cut boldly 
into the ice, and endeavour to hew deep enough to get 
a sloping passage on to the dome beyond. He stood 
close, not facing the parapet, but turned half round, and 
struck out as far away from himself as he could. A few 
strokes of his powerful arm brought down the projecting 
crest, which, after rolling a few feet, fell headlong over 
the brink of the arete, and was out of sight in an instant. 
We all looked on in breathless anxiety ; for it depended 
upon the success of this assault, whether that impregnable 
fortress was to be ours, or whether we were to return, 
slowly and sadly, foiled by its calm and massive strength. 

Suddenly, a startling cry of surprise and triumph rang 
through the air. A great block of ice bounded from the top 
of the parapet, and before it had well lighted on the glacier, 
Lauener exclaimed, " Ich schaue den blauen himmel !" 
(I see blue sky !) A thrill of astonishment and delight 
ran through our frames. Our enterprise had succeeded ! 
"We were almost upon the actual summit. That wave 
above us, frozen, as it seemed, in the act of falling over, 
into a strange and motionless magnificence, was the very 
peak itself ! Lauener's blows flew with redoubled energy. 
In a few minutes, a practicable breach was made, through 
which he disappeared ; and in a moment more, the sound 
of his axe was heard behind the battlement under whose 
cover we stood. In his excitement, he had forgotten us, 
and very soon the whole mass would have come crashing 
upon our heads. A loud shout of warning from Sampson, 
who now occupied the gap, was echoed by five other eager 
voices, and he turned his energies in a safer direction. 



AN AWFUL RIDGE. 



295 



It was not long before Lauener and Sampson together had 
widened the opening ; and then, at length, we crept slowly 
on. As I took the last step, Balmat disappeared from 
my sight; my left shoulder grazed against the angle of 
the icy embrasure, while, on the right, the glacier fell 
abruptly away beneath me, towards an unknown and awful 
abyss ; a hand from an invisible person grasped mine ; I 
stepped across, and had passed the ridge of the Wetterhorn ! 

The instant before, I had been face to face with a blank 
wall of ice. One step, and the eye took in a boundless 
expanse of crag and glacier, peak and precipice, mountain 
and valley, lake and plain. The whole world seemed to 
lie at my feet. The next moment, I was almost appalled by 
the awfulness of our position. The side we had come up 
was steep ; but it was a gentle slope, compared with that 
which now fell away from where I stood. A few yards of 
glittering ice at our feet, and then, nothing between us and 
the green slopes of Grindelwald, nine thousand feet beneath. 
I am not ashamed to own that I experienced, as this 
sublime and wonderful prospect burst upon my view, a 
profound and almost irrepressible emotion — an emotion 
which, if I may judge by the low ejaculations of surprise, 
followed by a long pause of breathless silence, as each in 
turn stepped into the opening, was felt by others as well as 
myself. Balmat told me repeatedly, afterwards, that it was 
the most awful and startling moment he had known in the 
course of his long mountain experience. We felt as in the 
more immediate presence of Him who had reared this 
tremendous pinnacle, and beneath the " majestical roof of 
whose deep blue Heaven we stood, poised, as it seemed, 
half way between the earth and sky. 



296 



THE PANORAMA. 



In a few minutes, Lauener and Sampson had cut away a 
length of about ten feet of the overhanging cornice, and we 
hastened, for the sake of security, to place ourselves astride 
on the ridge that was exposed. It was a saddle, or more 
properly, a kind of knife-edge, of ice ; for I never sat on 
so narrow-backed a horse. We worked ourselves along 
this ridge, seated ourselves in a long row upon it, and 
untied the ropes. After a few minutes, when we had 
become more accustomed to the situation, I ventured to 
stand upright on that narrow edge — not four inches wide — 
and then, at length, I became folly aware of the extent 
and magnificence of the panorama. To the East and South 
lay a boundless sea of mighty peaks, stretching from the 
great Ortler Spitz, and his giant companions of the Tyrol, 
in the solemn distance, past the fine group of the 
Monte Leone, the many summits of Monte Rosa, and the 
sharp peak of the Weisshorn, towards the Western ex- 
tremity of the Pennine chain. Mont Blanc was hidden 
behind the mountains of the Oberland, whose stupendous 
masses looked but a stone's throw from us. Between us 
and the far off snows of the Ortler Spitz, lay group behind 
group of the mountains of the Grisons and of Uri, green 
at the base, dark and craggy above, and capped by 
broken patches of glacier and snow, intersected by 
numerous deep and narrow valleys, at the foot of which 
tortuous mountain torrents and glacier streams glittered 
like silver threads. 

The long range stretching back from the Wetterhorn to- 
wards the Grimsel seemed, from this point of view, to join on 
with the clustered peaks which lay beyond the valley of the 
Rhone. In this direction, we gazed upon an icy sea, in which 



THE PANORAMA. 



297 



scarcely one islet of rock was perceptible. The summit 
nearest to us was the Mittelhorn, seen edgeways, rising 
majestically, in a kind of half-dome, from the plateau, and 
connected with us by the arete along whose precipi- 
tous brink we had won our hard fought way. Immediately 
beneath this ar£te lay a fearful abyss, terminating in the 
upper basin of the glacier of Eosenlaui, broken and rifted 
into a chaos of crevasses, almost as formidable as those of 
the Col du Geant. It was all dazzling white, and there 
was little to remind us of those exquisite deep blue vaults 
of transparent ice, for which the lower end of the glacier is 
so justly celebrated. 

The immediate group of the Oberland presented a 
scene of indescribable grandeur and sublimity. The 
Shreckhorn was the nearest of these mountains, a 
massive pyramid of gneiss, chequered with patches of 
snow and glacier, which clung to the ledges and lay 
amongst the recesses of its precipitous sides. Between 
this* and the Eiger was seen the magnificent amphi- 
theatre of glacier and precipice — one of the finest in the 
Alps — which bounds, on the South-east, the plateau of the 
Lower Grindelwald glacier, marked by the sharp peaks of 
the Yiescher Horner ; and then came the wedge-like form 
of the Eiger, rising in a thin slice a thousand feet above 
the height on which we stood. This mountain, too steep 
to allow more than a thin and broken coating of snow to 
rest upon its northern side, presents, from this point of 

* I have no recollection of seeing the Finster Aarhorn, and I 
find no note of it. It lies immediately behind the Shreckhorn, and 
probably was hidden by that massive mountain. 

o 3 



298 



THE PANORAMA. 



view, a peculiarly majestic and imposing appearance. It 
appears to raise itself directly from the valley South of the 
Wengern Alp, and to shoot upward, almost in one unbroken 
and uniform plane, from the base to the summit. Prom 
this distance, it seemed as if anything let slip from the top 
would slide many thousands of feet, before it met with any 
obstacle to divert it, in the least, from its original direction. 

The other mountains of the Bernese chain were nearly 
in a line with us and the Eiger, but we saw the graceful 
summit of the Jungfrau under a new and interesting 
aspect. The Silberhorner, instead of appearing, as they 
generally do, close to the face of the J ungfrau, and almost 
on the same line, stand boldly out as separate peaks, 
divided from the summit by a broad and deep valley of 
crag and ice. 

Turning towards the North, we were greeted by a scene 
of pleasing contrast to this majestic, but desolate, spectacle. 
Far as the eye could reach or the mind could grasp, lay a 
vast expanse of verdure-covered mountains and fertile 
plains. A soft, rich green was the pervading colour of the 
landscape, and peace and plenty the prevailing ideas which 
it suggested. The heights above the valley of Lauter- 
brunnen, capped here and there with snow, lay next to the 
mighty barrier of ice and crag, which seemed to cry " Here 
shalt thou cease," to the wave of life and fertility which 
was borne upward towards it from the great plain of 
Switzerland, on the gradually increasing heights which 
border the Emmenthal, the valley of Lauterbrunnen and 
the Kanderthal. Conspicuous in the North-west, were the 
well-known and characteristic forms of the Niesen and the 



TERRIFIC PROSPECT. 



299 



Stockhorn ; then came the plain of Switzerland, bounded 
by the distant Jura,* the Lake of Thun, peacefully nestled 
beneath a chain of mountain ramparts, the fir-clad group 
about the Briinig, the Lakes of Lungern, Sarnen, Lucerne, 
Zug and Zurich, forming a chain of dark blue islands in 
that mighty ocean of green. The Eighi was with some 
difficulty distinguished, amidst a multitude of summits of 
nearly equal altitude ; to the East of which, the mountains 
rise again, and snow-capped peaks, in distant Schwyz and 
Glarus, mark the approach, in this direction, to the vast 
domains where frost and ice hold sway. I was very much 
struck with the nearer prospect eastward, where it was 
curious to look down into valley after valley, and follow 
them as on a map. We were so high that we could trace, 
in this manner, the course of pass after pass in several 
directions, from the foot of their ascent to the crest or col 
to which they led ; many of them wound through valleys, 
both sides of which we could see from top to bottom. I 
never, from any other point, got so good an idea of the 
grouping of mountains, and of the manner in which the 
passes lie amongst them. 

After all, however, the most interesting and striking part 
of the view lay nearer to us. It was impossible long to 
turn the eye from the fearful slope at the top of which we 
stood. For twenty or thirty yards below us, the glacier 
curved away steeper and steeper, until its rounded form 
limited our view, and prevented our seeing what shape it 
took, beneath. Nothing else broke the terrific void, and 
the next objects on which the eye rested were the green 



* Varying in distance from fifty to a hundred miles. 



300 



SEEN FROM GRINDELWALD. 



pastures of the Scheideck, nearly two miles of absolute 
depth below us. This was the prospect that had startled 
us so much, when we mounted the breach Lauener had 
effected, and made our hearts beat quicker with a solemn 
and strange emotion. The imagination shrank from con- 
templating the abyss, and picturing to itself the fearful 
precipices which must be beneath, to raise us to that dizzy 
height. 

Further down the valley lay the peaceful Grindelwald, 
and I thought I could even distinguish the inn. We did 
not venture to use our telescopes, as we did not wish to run 
any chance of weakening the steadiness of the eye, on which 
we had still much to depend. I thought that, most 
probably, my wife and brother-in-law would be watching 
from below, and I took off my hat and waved it many times 
round my head ; the action, however, was not perceived ; 
but they had recognized us, as we appeared on the summit, 
as was proved by their being able to tell us correctly in 
what order we arrived. The chamois hunters puzzled 
them dreadfully, and were a mystery to them, till we could 
explain the phenomenon ; but the rest of us were easily 
distinguished. Sampson was the tallest and broadest, 
Bohren the shortest of the party, Balmat had a blouse, and 
I a pair of white flannel trousers. 

The chamois hunters and Bohren, while I was- standing 
up, began an unearthly series of yells, which broke dis- 
cordantly upon the solemnity and silence of the scene ; but 
the prudent Balmat instantly checked them, and I was 
glad of it, for the ringing shouts produced a strange and 
unpleasant effect upon the nerves, which must not now be 
disturbed unnecessarily. " II ne faut jamais s 3 eerier dans 



PLANTING THE FLAG. 



301 



les hautes sommites," was Balmat's comment ; " on ne 
sait jamais ce qui pent arriver." Lauener did not need 
the caution ; brave as a lion, active as a chamois, the best 
hunter and the best guide, in the Oberland, he could 
hardly conceal a strong emotion. Balmat assured me — 
and neither did he, nor do I, mention it as any disparage- 
ment to his manliness — he saw him, and felt him, tremble 
like a child, when he helped him through the gap. No 
wonder : his elder brother, Johann, who was reputed a 
more bold and adventurous mountaineer than even Ulrich, 
had perished, but a few months before, while hunting his 
favourite game, by slipping over the edge of a less dange- 
rous precipice. 

While I was standing on the ridge, where there was not 
room to place my two feet side by side, the guides were 
busy driving the long iron bar of the " Flagge" into the 
solid ice. I took my turn at it for a minute; it was 
planted five or six feet deep in the glacier, and seemed 
firm enough to defy the tempest, even at this aerial height ; 
the broad sheet of iron was fitted in its place, resting on a 
rim in the staff, on which it played freely ; and, finally, was 
secured with a nut, screwed on to the top. It was then 
turned towards Grindelwald, whence, as well as from all 
the country round, it long remained a conspicuous object. 
It was planted a few paces nearer to Grindelwald than the 
opening where the cornice was cut away, so as to have the 
white wall of snow behind for a background, by which 
means it was rendered far more easy to be seen. Side by 
side with it, the chamois hunters planted their green tree 
which had a strange appearance, as if growing vigorously 
out of a soil of ice. While standing up, I dropped a 



302 ANOTHER FLAG ! 



g]ove; it rolled for a few yards down the bank of glacier 
on the Grindelwald side, and there rested against a crust 
of snow. Despite my earnest requests, and even com- 
mands, to the contrary, Bohren insisted upon cutting his 
way down, and regaining it ; a piece of folly and rashness 
of which I was an unwilling spectator. 

When I sat down again, Balmat pointed out to me what I 
had not observed before — a flag just like ours, planted deep 
in the ice, a few feet below, on the side we had ascended, and 
near the end of the ridge. "We knew that the ascent had been 
attempted that year by a gentleman whose flag still floated 
over the more attainable peak of the Mittelhorn; but no 
better comment could be devised on the reality and greatness 
of the difficulty we had overcome in passing the cornice. 
These explorers had actually arrived within ten feet of the 
summit ; but had been arrested by that frowning barrier 
of overhanging ice. They had attempted to get round the 
eastern end of the ridge ; but had been foiled by the exces- 
sive steepness of the ar&te in which it terminated, had 
planted their flag where we found it, and had returned 
without any idea of their proximity to the summit. This 
Balmat learned subsequently, happening to meet the gen- 
tleman — a very intrepid and hardy mountaineer — in 
another part of Switzerland. They had supposed, as we 
had from below, that the actual summit would be found to 
consist of a dome. I had spoken, the day before, to a 
man who professed to have been one of his guides \ but I am 
inclined to think he was telling a lie, as I did not find one 
of the kind of difficulties which he described as the most 
formidable — namely, those presented by deep and dange- 
rous crevasses — and he said little or nothing about the 



THE DESCENT. 



303 



passage of the rocks and the last ascent, which were the 
real difficulties of the day. Balmat made me crawl along 
the edge of the ice, and shake the " drapeau" of our pre- 
decessors, in assertion of our own supremacy. In doing 
so, I caught a glimpse of the ar£te below, ending in the 
glacier of Schwarzwald, which made me shudder. 

"We spent about twenty minutes on the summit ; we 
arrived at twenty minutes past eleven, and remained till 
twenty minutes to twelve ; long enough to impress indeli- 
bly upon the memory the immense and varied panorama 
we had beheld.* It was now necessary to descend the 
slope by which we had mounted. Just as we were about 
to start, Sampson said, " Maintenant, a la garde de 
Dieu \" an observation for which Balmat took him severely 
to task. Balmat was right. No sound should have been 
uttered which could tend to shake the nerves, or aid the 
imagination in magnifying the danger of the descent. I 
proposed that we should tie ourselves together again ; but 
they all dissented, thinking, as they told me afterwards, 
that an accident to any one would, in that case, have 
involved the destruction of the whole party. Going clown 
proved, as might be expected, a worse task than ascend- 
ing j the difficulty and danger stared us in the face ; it was 
a trial for the stoutest nerves, to look down the steep cur- 
tain of glacier, on which a single slip might (perhaps must) 
have entailed fatal consequences. Balmat and Simond both 

* Part of the details of the foregoing picture are necessarily told 
from memory. It is possible, therefore, that as to some of the less 
important features in the view, an error may here and there occur. 
I am satisfied, however, of the general fidelity of my account, and 
have a strong belief that it is correct, even in the detail. 



304 



A TOAST. 



urged me to descend with mj face to the ice, so that I 
might not see what lay before me ; but I felt confident of 
my own presence of mind, and preferred to look my work 
boldly in the face. 

The descent was conducted with extreme caution. 
Before we took a step, we planted our alpenstocks firmly 
in the glacier, and laid hold of them close to the snow, or 
cut holes with them, into which we could put a couple of 
fingers, and so get a grasp of the ice. "When we were 
about fifty yards on the way down, some one remembered 
that we had forgotten to drink the health of the Wetter- 
horn. The first impulse was unanimous, to return ; but 
second thoughts told us that would be an unjustifiable 
imprudence, and we rectified the omission, then and there, 
as we stood on the ice, each tossing off, bareheaded, a 
draught of brandy and snow to (c the health of the Wetter- 
horn." Then we continued our descent with the same 
care and deliberation, and in about half an hour reached 
the rocks on which we had lain so long, while Lauener 
and Sampson were toiling at the steps. We looked back 
from this place, with no small pride and satisfaction ; 
for now the worst part of our day's work was over. 
Presently, we were able to descend much more rapidly, 
and by about a quarter to one we were at the spot 
where we had left our provender. Here we sat down for 
a hearty meal, though I was still limited to bread. We 
shared our stock with the two hunters, who had brought 
little with them, and were very glad of some wine and 
meat, though flavoured with garlic. They had by this 
time completely established their character as " bons en- 
fants," and we were all the best friends possible. We 



A ILACE. 



305 



drank again more solemnly and deliberately to " the health 
of the Wetterhorn/' in a rousing bumper of iced red wine, 
and, this time, Balmat raised no objection to as loud a 
shout as human lungs could utter. Lauener astounded us 
all by the strength and clearness of his manly voice. 

We stayed here but half an hour, and then crossed again, 
with extreme care, the dangerous ridge of rocks, which 
was the last serious difficulty we had to encounter. Once 
at the base of the wedge to which it belonged, we found 
the abundance of small loose stones which had impeded us 
so much in the morning, when climbing up the steep 
slopes of rock on which they lay, afford us the greatest 
facilities for descending. We jumped upon a bank of 
them, and stones and man all slid down, a dozen feet 
at a time, till stopped by some ledge, winch we always 
took care to look out for, before taking a leap. In this 
way, we came down at a tremendous pace. Till now, we 
had been in doubt as to whether we should be ab]e to 
reach Grindelwald that evening. My wife had been told 
to prepare herself for our being absent a second night ; for 
all agreed, that if five o' clock should pass while we were 
still above our sleeping-place, it would be madness to 
think of descending the slippery rocks of gneiss, and the 
narrow goat-track of the Enge, in a waning light. It 
was not till they saw how I could manage the descent over 
the rocks beneath the plateau, that the Oberland men 
would pronounce an opinion as to the hour at which we 
should arrive ; had I been nervous or slow, they said, we 
must have taken hours to pass this part, and might not 
have arrived at the cavern till nearly dusk. When they 
saw me lead the way, and run Lauener a race down here, 



306 



A ROLL. 



they shouted for joy, and exclaimed that- we should be at 
Grindelwald by eight. 

We reached the glacier, at a point higher than where 
we had quitted it in the morning. It was a grand 
place for a glissade. There was but one crevasse of 
any consequence, some distance below, and I marked 
a wide bridge of snow and ice in the middle, which made it 
perfectly safe in that direction. Accordingly, I made for 
a point in the glacier above this bridge, having gained 
which, I took a little run, planted my alpenstock behind 
me, and went sliding down at railroad pace. Lauener was 
behind, and never having been out with me before, was 
not assured that I knew what I was about, and how to 
direct my course towards the point where the crevasse was 
safe. Accordingly, he set off after me with a shout of 
" Halte ! halte !" and overtaking me, seized me by the 
arm to stop me. The consequence was, we both rolled over 
together, and had the greatest difficulty in stopping our- 
selves. My hand, grasping my alpenstock, got ground 
between his heavy body and the hard, granulated snow ; 
the skin was taken off all the knuckles ; but fortunately we 
succeeded in checking our descent, with no worse result. The 
crevasse was soon passed, we slid and ran down the glacier 
as hard as we could go, and what had taken us an hour 
to ascend in the morning, was descended in a few minutes. 
The steep bit of turf, strewn with boulders, which lay below 
the glacier, we found to be now soaked with the drainings of 
the snow above, and very slippery. Most of us had a tumble 
as we passed rapidly down towards our hut, but a slip 
mattered little now ; and we actually reached the sleeping- 
place at ten minutes to three. Here we picked up our 



IMPORTUNATE SHEEP. 



307 



porter, who had stayed for the sake of company on the 
way back. Our early return, after so successful an enter- 
prize, put us in the highest possible spirits ; and a bottle 
of champagne which I had brought up, and reserved to 
be drunk only in honour of success, added to our festivity. 
We stayed but half an hour, and then, building up again 
the entrance of the cavern, to keep it dry and clean for 
future wanderers, we collected our traps, and set forth 
once more, lighter by the iron standard, and by many 
pounds of bread, cheese, meat, wine and coffee, than when 
we had arrived thither, some twenty hours before. 

So bare and exposed a rock as the upper part of the 
Wetterhorn consists of, is not likely to support much 
vegetable life. I looked everywhere for specimens of its 
flora ; but above the first glacier, I found only one plant 
— a beautiful specimen of campanula cenisia, whose 
delicate flowers made beautiful spots of bright blue against 
the dark and gloomy crags around. Between the glacier 
and the sleeping- place, the gentians flourished abundantly, 
though they were not fine. There appeared, however, to 
be three species only, acaulis, verna and nivalis. 

When we came to the bad place, over the slabs of 
treacherous rock, we were terribly annoyed by a large 
flock of sheep, which would follow ns and roll down 
stones upon us, in a very dangerous fashion. These animals 
rarely see any human being, nnless it be the shepherd 
who comes at intervals to tend them, or to give them salt ; 
and whenever a man comes near them, they cluster round 
him, and besiege him with their importunate caresses. They 
can pass securely, where the foot of man would slip ; and 
they climbed above our track, disturbing the stones, both 



308 



A SALUTE. 



great and small,, which lay on the rock, wanting but the 
smallest impetus to set them rolling. They are, thus, often 
very dangerous companions. We pelted them with frag- 
ments of rock, but in vain ; we were compelled to charge 
them five or six times, and drive them far away at the 
point of the alpenstock. Even then, they clustered 
together, the moment our backs were turned, and followed 
us again, though at a more respectful distance. The last 
time, in pursuing them somewhat farther than usual, I came 
upon a touching sight. A couple of very young lambs 
had been deserted by their dam. One had just ceased to 
breathe, and was still warm. The other was bleating 
piteously, but in a very exhausted state. Bohren 
and Balmat both declared there was no chance of the 
dam's returning. It had left one to die, and the other 
would soon share the same fate; and Bohren mercifully 
put it out of its misery, and saved it from starving to 
death. 

We now descended the " mauvais pas," slowly and cau- 
tiously, but relieved from the undesirable companionship of 
the sheep, and presently came in sight of the chalet where old 
Bohren and his family lived. They were not on the look-out, 
as they did not expect us for several hours ; but some one 
happened to catch sight of us, and they fired a salute of 
two guns to announce our safe approach. My wife and 
her brother were at that moment on the upper glacier, 
exploring some of its beautiful deep blue caverns and 
crevasses. She had had a little chat with the old man as 
she went to the glacier, and he had pointed to the two 
cannons, ready loaded, with which he meant to greet us; 
but she could scarcely believe her ears, and thought it was 



SAFE ARRIVAL. 



309 



a mistake, till there was a great bawling from the chalet, 
and they shouted that they had seen us. She hurried to 
old Bohren's ; and presently afterwards, we again came in 
sight, and rested for a moment on the little platform of 
turf near the Enge. We were welcomed by the yells of 
the whole assembled family of Bohrens, not unworthily 
responded to by our Bohren and Lauener, who bawled 
themselves black in the face. We could distinguish the 
chalet easily enough, but hardly the figures. They were 
not, as we were, cut out sharply against a face of rock. 
Balmat, however, put my glass to his eye, and exclaimed : 
" Voila Madame, qui agite son mouchoir and I fancied 
I saw a faint gleam of flickering white. Then, he ex- 
claimed again : " Elle se cache derriere la grange ; on va 
tirer encore/'' and, as he said it, we saw a puff of 
white smoke, and, after a considerable interval, a faint 
report reached our ears. We put ourselves in motion 
again, and rapidly traversed the Enge, and by a quarter 
past five arrived at the turf beneath. We stopped for one 
moment, to quaif our last draught of wine — a welcome 
refreshment after our energetic descent — and then set off 
at a run, and raced down the grassy slopes, leaping over 
several fences. I was a-head ; and Lauener and I took a 
hedge, at the same instant, which divided the meadow from 
the path towards the Scheideck, when suddenly, and very 
much to our mutual astonishment, we found ourselves 
within ten paces of my wife and her brother, who were 
strolling out to meet us. They could scarcely conceive, 
nor could we easily realize, that we had come from the 
summit in less than six hours, including an hour of rest. 
They told me my face was quite livid and purple. I knew 



310 



BLACK FACES. 



it must be very much sunburnt, for all the day long we had 
none of us dared to wear a veil, as we needed to make full 
use of our eyes, almost from the first moment we entered upon 
the upper plateau until we quitted it ; and, indeed, I felt 
that my face was scorched and sore, but I had not expected 
the other effect. It was due, in part, probably to the 
congestion of the vessels of the skin, which always takes 
place, more or less, at great elevations — and which is familiar 
to us in the case of persons who ascend to the summit of 
Mont Blanc — and partly to the rapid descent, which, as I 
have elsewhere noticed, is apt to produce temporary deafness 
from the same cause. The superficial vessels of the 
drum of the ear, in common with all the finer vessels of 
the head, get swollen and a little congested, and hearing is 
impaired. I have known persons whose noses always bled, 
if they made a long and hurried descent. It was the case 
on several occasions with my friend H., who has been 
frequently mentioned as my companion in 1852, and 
who is one of the best walkers and strongest men I 
know. 

My wife and her brother turned back with us, and 
retraced their steps to old Bohren's, where we were received 
with vociferous greetings ; and another salute of two guns 
was fired in honour of our arrival. We offered to drop 
our Bohren here ; but he preferred to go on to Grindelwald, 
a good hour further, for the sake of figuring in a sort of 
triumphal procession, which I soon found they were 
arranging for our entrance into the village. My wife 
mounted her mule ; and we returned slowly by the road. 
The men cut across the fields, and must have gained nearly 
half an hour upon us, but we found them all waiting at a 



TRIUMPHANT ENTRY. 



311 



corner of the road, not far from Grindelwald, where they 
fell into rank, and made the most of our forces. The 
chamois hunters had left us, when we stopped half an hour 
at the sleeping-place, to gather up our baggage, else they, 
no doubt, would have been pressed into the service. 
Lauener had made us all decorate our hats with bunches 
of a brilliant red berry we found on the Enge, so that we 
wore quite a holiday look. It was a quarter past five, 
when we had met my wife ; and we marched into Grindel- 
wald, and were received by the whole assembled village, 
at half-past six, a fall hour and half before the most 
sanguine had ventured to expect, when we were on the 
rocks beneath the plateau. 

It was curious and amusing to learn the interest our 
expedition had excited. Telescopes were seen, for some 
days to come, fixed against the principal windows of both 
inns, and when any of us walked about the village, we 
were pointed at, as people who had done something 
extraordinary. My wife told me that, for two hours 
at mid-day, after our success was known, the whole 
village had turned out and occupied itself in gazing 
intently at the peak, where, of course, nothing could 
by any possibility be seen, except two little black specks 
against the snow, invisible to all but the very keenest eyes, 
unaided by a glass. The landlord took the earliest 
opportunity of telegraphing the news to Berne, where 
the great telescope of the observatory was brought to 
bear, and from a distance of forty miles they were able to 
discern our standard and the fir-tree, though what the 
latter object meant was for some days a puzzle. 



312 



" LE CAPITAINE." 



Balmat told me that among the guides and people of that 
kind, the affair had created an extraordinary sensation, and 
that he found himself quite a man of note. I had not 
been surprized to see that both he and Sampson had 
created in Lauener a strong feeling of respect for their 
manly and mountaineer- like qualities, and the feeling was 
mutual. Balmat always called Lauener "le capitaine," 
and a very hearty feeling of regard evidently existed 
between them. The next evening, as we were returning 
from the Wengern Alp, a peasant entered into an animated 
conversation with our mule- driver, in the course of which 
I heard myself styled by the countryman ' ' Der Wetter- 
horner Herr." It was unquestionably a very difficult 
enterprize, and Balmat and Sampson, who had each been 
many times to the summit of Mont Blanc declared 
repeatedly, (and I overheard them saying the same in their 
conversations with one another) that the ascent of Mont 
Blanc was a " bagatelle," in comparison, as far as difficulty 
was concerned, though, of course, its superior elevation 
makes the fatigue much greater. Mont Blanc is 15,732 
feet, and the Wetterhorn about 12,500 feet above the level 
of the sea, so that Mont Blanc is the loftier of the two by 
nearly the height of Snowdon. The last three thousand 
feet make a prodigious difference in the fatigue. But there 
are no difficulties, on the side of Mont Blanc, like those of 
the Wetterhorn. There are no such bad passages of rock, 
the Mur de la Cote is far less steep than the last slope of 
the Wetterhorn, and is much sooner passed, and, finally, 
there is no such obstacle as the overhanging cornice, which 
as we saw, had baffled other explorers, within a dozen feet 



REMARKS. 



313 



of the summit. Balmat, who visited me in London, the 
following winter, told me that when he arrived at 
Chainouni, whither the fame of his exploit had preceded 
him, he was instantly sent for to the chief guide's office, 
where he had to tell the story over and over again, to fresh 
troops of eager listeners ; and his journey from Interlaken 
to Chamouni, along which route he was well known, 
was like a triumphal progress. At Martigny, he was sur- 
rounded, as he was crossing the square, by a host of guides 
and acquaintances, who beset him with questions innume- 
rable, which he had to answer before he was allowed to 
proceed to his inn. 

The expedition, though full of difficulties, did not appear 
to me to be dangerous, with really good guides, and abun- 
dant precaution. Of course, no one ought to undertake 
such an enterprize, who was not tolerably familiar with 
Alpine climbing, or w r ho had not had practice and 
experience enough to know whether he could safely trust 
his head and his nerves, in such scenes and situations as I 
have attempted to describe. The first half hour of the 
descent would be terrible indeed, to a person who lost, in 
any degree, his self-possession or self-reliance. Indeed, 
it would be a task full of danger, if such were the case 
with any one of the party ; and the whole descent would 
be immensely prolonged. Bohren told me he had accom- 
panied a French gentleman to the plateau, who was very 
nervous in the descent, and that he had thought they 
would never reach the bottom of the rocks. The expense 
is necessarily considerable; the guides ask fifty francs 
apiece for the " course/' and it is not at all too much. 
The porter receives ten or fifteen francs, as he carries a 

p 



314 



EXPENSE. 



heavy load, up a difficult and laborious path, and is out 
two, or perhaps three, days. Three guides are absolutely 
necessary for the expedition, which is a very laborious one 
for them, upon whom the labour of cutting the steps 
devolves. All these men have to be fed, for the greatest 
part of two days ; and the bill for eatables is not a small 
one. The landlord at Grindelwald charged me sixty 
francs for the provisions, exclusive of wine; an atrocious 
attempt at imposition, which I am happy to say failed 
entirely. But still, they must form a considerable item of 
expenditure; men cannot climb the mountains and eat 
moderately. The expedition cost me, in the whole, nearly 
£10. I think it might be done for between £6 and 
£7 ; but the fourth guide I was obliged to take made 
the cost between £2 and £3 more than it need have 
been. The " Flagge" cost some eight or ten francs ; but, 
in the end, even Balmat and Sampson approved the 
investment. I never saw such a race of unbelievers as 
the people at Grindelwald. Our flag was planted at the 
eastern extremity of a ridge of some length, and of nearly 
equal height all along. Consequently, from Grindelwald, 
the western extremity, being nearer, looked a trifle higher, 
and it was with some difficulty that we could persuade 
them that the point at which our standard was planted 
was as high as the rest of the ridge. I am quite sure, if 
we had not left a very substantial proof of our presence, 
they never would have believed that we had reached the 
summit at all. 

I found the fatigue not at all more than a good night's 
rest would dispel. I walked, the next day, to the summit of 
the Wengern Alp, and back, and spent twelve hours, the day 



THIRST. 



315 



after, in an excursion to the Eismeer, the upper part 
or plateau of the lower glacier of Grindelwald — one of 
the sublimest scenes the Alps afford — which I explored 
thoroughly, while my wife rested on the rocks at its side. 
The third day after, we ascended the Eaulhorrj, and I 
experienced what Balmat said he had almost always 
suffered from, three or four days after a great " course" — a 
raging and insatiable thirst ; but this was the only uncom- 
fortable effect left by the greatest and grandest expedition 
of my life. I am inclined to think that in ordinary years, 
the difficulty and the fatigue would be less than we found 
them ; but the year 1854 was remarkable, in Switzerland, 
for the unusually small quantity of snow on the high 
mountains ; and the same cause that rendered Mont Blanc 
so easy of access, that no less than five or six times the 
usual number of ascents were made, immensely increased 
the difficulty of climbing the last slope of the Wetterhorn. 



CHAPTER XY. 

HINTS FOR PEDESTRIANS. 

So lang 5 ich mich noch frisch auf meinen Beinen fiihle 

Geniigt mir dieser Knotenstock. 

Was Miffs, dass man den Weg verkiirzt ! 

Im Labyrinth der Thaler hinzuschleichen, 

Dann diesen Felsen zu ersteigen, 

Von dem der Quell sich ewig sprndelnd sturzt, 

Das ist die Lust, die solche Pfade wiirzt ! 

Goethe. 

Except this knotty staff, I nought require, 
I still am fresh upon my legs. Beside, 
What boots it to abridge a pleasant way ? 
Along the labyrinth of these vales to creep, 
Thence scale these rocks, whence, in eternal spray, 
Adown the cliffs the silv'ry torrents leap — 
Such is the joy that seasons paths like these ! 

Tr. (Miss A. S Warwick). 



SWITZERLAND THE COUNTRY FOR PEDESTRIANS — EXPENSE — OUTFIT 
—THE KNAPSACK — SHOES — SOCKS — FLANNEL — CONTENTS OF THE 
KNAPSACK — BLOUSE — ROPES — TELESCOPE — COMPASS — PRESSING 
FLOWERS — RIDING AND WALKING— -GUIDES, WHEN NEEDED — A 



DELIGHTS OF WALKING. 



317 



GUIDE FOR THE TOUR — INNS IN THE HIGH ALPS — EXTORTION 
IN PIEDMONT — SWISS INNS — AT SONCEBOZ — THE SCHWARENBACH 
— THE ENGADINE — FOOD — BEDS — THE CHALET-PLEA — WHEN 
AND HOW TO RESIST — TEMPER. 

A volume might well be written in praise of pedes- 
trianism ; and especially, of pedestrianism in the country 
which, more than any other in the world, invites and 
demands the practice of that healthful and manly exercise. 
Upon the plains and in the valleys, we hardly know what 
the true delight of living is ; we can hardly realize the 
sensation of freedom, vigour and power, which give new 
life to those who seek the lofty mountain tops. The pure 
air of the glaciers is the finest tonic in all the pharmacopoeia 
of nature, and a few days of its irresistible influence suffice 
to give strength to the weak, fresh energy to the jaded, and 
to bring back to him who has long foregone its enjoyment, 
the calm, unbroken slumbers, which no dreams disturb and 
no restlessness interrupts. 

The bronzed and ruddy cheek, the bright, clear eye, the 
cheerful countenance, the elastic step, and unembarrassed 
gait ; a state of rude health in which it is indeed " life to 
live" — such are the favours which nature bestows, with 
unsparing hand, on those who dare to penetrate to the 
arcana of her wildest and most rugged sanctuaries. There 
is no state of body or of mind, to compare with that which 
is the almost inevitable consequence of a six weeks' walk 
among the High Alps. 

Switzerland is pre -eminently the country for the pedestrian. 
It is so easily reached, the expeditions lie within so moderate 
a compass, the accommodation, for a mountainous country, 
is so good, the scenery so varied and so beautiful, the air 



318 



EXPENSE. 



so pure, that it seems a country specially marked out for 
this purpose, as well as to minister to the most refined 
tastes and the purest pleasures in which humanity can 
indulge. 

Scotland and Wales afford abundance of beautiful scenery : 
let no man speak slightingly of them; but they are not so well 
suited for a walking tour as Switzerland. Pedestrianism is 
not, to the same extent, a recognized institution ; innkeepe;s 
are apt to turn sour looks upon soiled coats and dusty 
shoes ; and accommodation is very expensive, in both 
countries. Notwithstanding the great cost of a land 
journey of some seven or eight hundred miles, an outing 
of six weeks to Switzerland is a cheaper luxury than a 
journey of the same duration within British waters ; and 
the recompense is unquestionably greater, not only from 
the unapproachable magnificence of Swiss scenery, but from 
the thorough change of all habits and associations, which 
can only be secured by visiting a foreign land.* 

As a general principle, applicable to all countries, it is not 
good policy to attempt, in the same tour, to visit a round of 
cities, and to wander among the mountains. The two kinds 
of pleasure do not suit well together. They require different 

* A journey of six or seven weeks in Switzerland need not cost 
more than lis. or 12s. a day, including the cost of the long land jour- 
ney both waye. When H. and I travelled together in 1852, we were 
out nine weeks, one week of which was passed in Paris, where the 
expenditure was, of course, much above the average. We spent 
no small sum in guides and carriages, and though economical, stinted 
ourselves in nothing. The trip cost us less than £40 each, every 
thing included. I ought to mention that we travelled third class, 
much of the way ; but I have no doubt such an outing might be had 
at even considerably less cost than we incurred. 



FREEDOM. 



319 



frames of mind, and different states of body. For one, a com- 
prehensive wardrobe and a certain stock of materials for in- 
door occupation must be taken. You cannot dress in 
cities, as you may do among the mountains ; you would 
be singular, and attract an unpleasant degree of attention ; 
and you cannot be always in the open air. Eor a 
walking tour in Switzerland, you can hardly take too 
little baggage. You are going among the mountains, 
where no one cares a straw how he is dressed, so long 
as he is comfortable, and where hardly anything will 
either excite notice, or detract from your respectability. 
The most particular of your countrymen cannot help re- 
laxing his notions of propriety, when he gets beneath the 
shadow of Monte Rosa or the Jungfrau; and however 
shabby, soiled or torn your clothes may be, you will find 
others in the same predicament as yourself, and you need 
not fear that your flannels and shepherd's plaid shooting- 
coat will exclude you from the company of your better 
dressed neighbours at the table-d'hote, or in the saloon. 
Make up your mind, therefore, to sacrifice all convention- 
alities to comfort, and you will soon forget the little incon- 
veniences of a scanty wardrobe, in the glorious consciousness 
of being able to shoulder your traps, and be independent of 
the world — free to turn your steps hither or thither, as 
fancy or inclination may lead you, without being obliged 
to think where you are to meet your portmanteau, or what 
you shall do with your carpet-bag. 

The first necessary is a light, durable, waterproof knap- 
sack. Those commonly sold in England are far too 
cumbersome and heavy, and are furnished with too many 
strings and straps. The best material is either cloth or 
canvas, water-proofed with a solution of Indian rubber, 



320 



THE KNAPSACK. 



or light varnished leather ; but the former is less heating. 
A knapsack about fifteen inches long, ten inches broad, and 
three and a half inches deep, is quite large enough for any 
reasonable man. The frame-work should be as light as 
possible; every ounce tells in a long day's journey. The 
top, bottom, and sides of the knapsack, as it stands upright 
and fastened, should be stiff — as light as you please, but 
stiff — the back and front, limp, as it thus fits better, and is 
more comfortable to carry ; the front, i.e., the face which 
is outside, when on the back, should be fastened down 
with two or three strong, but light, straps and buckles. 
When these are undone, the front, which now turns back, 
will prove to be a pocket, with a flap, buttoning well over 
the opening. The stiff top opens and lies back, in the same 
plane with this pocket — showing the body of the knapsack, 
consisting of a flat case, secured by a flap, coming well over 
the opening, and fastened down by a light strap running 
across through rings passing through button-holes in the 
flap. This is the German plan ; and such a pack is far more 
convenient, and less liable to get out of repair, and opens and 
shuts more easily, than one furnished with strings or buckles. 
The opening should be large, the slits should extend three 
or four inches down the sides, and the upper face of this 
compartment should be limp, as you thus get things in and 
out with less crushing and inconvenience. With a little ma- 
nagement, you may carry a shirt for days, without creasing 
the folds. An outside pocket, with a flap secured by a but- 
ton, should be added at each end of the knapsack. On the 
top should be a couple of light straps, to hold a blouse, plaid, 
waterproof, or anything of the kind that may be thought 
desirable, and a stout leather handle, by which to carry 
the pack when occasion requires. The straps by which 



THE KNAPSACK. 



321 



it is fastened on the back should be strong, but light ; 
above all, they should be broad enough — a narrow strap 
cuts the arms and shoulders most uncomfortably. They 
must not be too long, or the knapsack drops half way 
down the back, in which position the burden is far more 
fatiguing than if it were up to the shoulders. A strap 
across the breast, such as our soldiers used to wear, is a great 
mistake ; it contracts the chest, and interferes materially 
with the play of the lungs. One of the shoulder straps 
should end in a ring, and a hook should be sown on to 
the lower edge of the knapsack, to receive it. The knap- 
sack is thus put on and taken off, without the slightest 
difficulty. The whole apparatus ought not to weigh above 
two pounds."* 

More important even than the knapsack, are the shoes, 
or boots. They should be old friends, if possible, which 
are already worn easy ; otherwise, a blistered heel is likely 
to arrest your operations. I was once laid up a whole 
fortnight, at Sonceboz and Interlaken, in consequence of 
starting with a new pair of shoes ; in the course of a two 
days' walk through the Munster Thai, my feet were abso- 
lutely cut to pieces. Of course, they should be of the 
best material and workmanship that money can buy ; hardly 
any price is too much for a good pair of easy and service- 

* I have been thus particular in describing the knapsack, because 
the manufacture of them is not well understood in England, and I 
have seen so many pedestrians encumbered with packages twice the 
necessary weight, and of very needless and inconvenient complexity. 
On the other hand, those made in England, to order, after such a 
pattern as the foregoing, are lighter and stronger than what axe 
commonly sold in Germany and Switzerland, 

p 3 



322 



BOOTS. 



able mountain boots. You cannot take a second pair; 
they weigh more than all the rest of your kit put together 
— and a failure of boots or shoes is a fatal blow to the 
pedestrian. The soles should not be less than five-eighths, 
or three-quarters of an inch thick, studded with stout 
nails — not too thickly, though, else they will make you 
slip on the ice. The nails should be put in when the 
shoes are made, not after the leather has become thoroughly 
dry and hard, or they are apt to come out. Sometimes, 
they are screwed in, and this is the best plan. The 
upper leather should be double, over a great part of the 
foot, and as soft and flexible as leather can be got. I 
am fond of ancle boots, with elastic spring sides; they 
save a world of trouble in lacing, and always fit close 
to the ancle, so as completely to keep out dust, stones, 
and even snow ; for which purpose, they are as useful as 
gaiters. At the same time, they are not comfortable to 
sit in, and chill the feet, when not in active exercise, by 
checking the circulation. My own plan, which 1 have 
found very efficacious in keeping the feet in good order, is 
to change both shoes and socks, the moment the day's 
work is over, or a long halt come to. 

The socks should be woollen, and as thick and soft as 
can be procured. Cotton, or a hard twisted wool, will 
cut the feet to pieces in a long daj's walk ; and the 
inconvenience of the warmth of woollen socks is hardly 
felt, after the first day or two. If the boot be large 
enough — and it ought to be very easy, as the foot is sure 
to swell with the heat of exercise — two pair of woollen 
socks are an almost infallible preventive of blisters. 
The best socks for walking in are made at Interlaken and 



FLANNEL. 



323 



Chamouni ; but Scotch wool is an excellent substitute, 
and English-made socks generally fit better than Swiss. 

Manuel or silk should always be worn next the skin. 
The rapid changes of temperature, on the glaciers, and in 
the valleys, render this precaution — always important — 
of more than ordinary consequence in Switzerland ; while 
the vigorous exertion of climbing often leads to copious 
perspiration, especially before you get into condition — 
and then you may suddenly be assailed by a freezing blast, 
exposure to which, without such a protection, would 
be, perhaps dangerous, certainly unpleasant. The 
most comfortable suit for walking in would be coat, 
waistcoat and trousers of flannel ; but good, stout, warm 
shepherd's plaid, all woollen, is no bad substitute. In 
any case, however, I strongly advocate the use of flannel 
trousers — such as are worn at cricket. Their superior 
comfort cannot be appreciated, till you have walked both 
in them, and in others of a different material. Both the 
coat and waistcoat should both be double-breasted — the 
inconvenience of being sometimes too warm is nothing 
to that of being too cold, in the High Alps — and should 
have plenty of pockets. A shooting- coat, with the tails 
not too long, is the best adapted for walking. A light 
wide- awake is the best head-gear. It must have strings, 
or it will probably be blown away, at the top of some 
col or summit. I have often found the additional security 
of a handkerchief tied over the head, necessary. 

A plaid, or waterproof, is occasionally a great comfort, 
but often a great inconvenience. I prefer the discomfort 
of an occasional drenching, to the trouble of carrying the 
extra weight. 



324 



THE OUTFIT. 



The contents of the knapsack or coat pocket, or both, 
should not weigh more than from six to eight pounds. 
This will be found quite heavy enough, in a long day's 
walk. Two spare shirts, one spare undershirt, and a 
couple of pocket-handkerchiefs, are a liberal allowance. A 
change of cloth clothes is out of the question. Socks are 
the only articles of which you must have plenty ; five or 
six pairs are not too many for two months' work. They 
should be well run at the toes and heels, for they will see 
service, and it is not the pleasantest thing in the world to 
have to sit down in an out of the way Swiss village, and 
mend your own socks, though you must be prepared to do 
so, if necessary. Several bits of string, of different sizes, a 
few needles, tapes, buttons, some thread and worsted, some 
bits of cloth and flannel, to mend your clothes with, a 
sponge, some soap, a brush and comb, razor and tooth- 
brush, some oiled silk and lint for hurts, a few simple 
medicines — for you may be ill, even in the mountains — a 
small stock of paper, a few wafers, an ink-bottle, a large 
knife, fitted with cork-screw, gimlet and the like, a light 
pair of shoes, (an indispensable comfort) a pair of dark 
spectacles and a dark veil with a hole cut in it, to breathe 
through, a pair of very warm gloves and muffitees, and 
a pair of the lightest oiled- silk gaiters, are pretty nearly 
everything that you want. One or two very small books 
may be added, a discretion • and a journal, a blank book 
for pressing flowers, a thermometer, pocket compass, and 
small telescope, will materially add to the enjoyment and 
advantage of the trip. 

The foregoing articles are all best procured before start- 
ing. There are one or two more, which it saves trouble to 



ROPES. 



325 



get on the spot, when you are about to begin the real 
expedition. Such are a spirit-flask, a small leathern cup 
for the pocket, and a coarse, common blouse, which will 
be a great protection against dust, when travelling along the 
roads, and will shoot off any light rain or moderate showers ; 
even against heavy rain, it is no mean defence, for an hour 
or two. The coarser and stiff er it is, the better. Tor a 
couple of francs, you may obtain a very stout and 
serviceable article. A few screws, about three-eighths of an 
inch long, with large, double-pointed heads, which can 
be 1 s;ot at Chamouni, but which I have never seen else- 
where,* are very useful companions. Before entering upon 
a difficult glacier, they are easily screwed into the boof, by 
the aid of a bit of wood, which you can hollow out into a 
kind of socket, to fit the head of the screw ; and when 
you no longer want them, they are as easily taken out again. 
Three or four in each boot are sufficient — two in the broad 
part of the sole, and one or two in the heel. 

When about to start for any long or difficult glacier 
pass, plenty of ropes should always form part of the outfit. 
The ropes best adapted for glacier use are rather thicker 
than an ordinary window-sash cord, and long enough to 
allow from ten to fifteen feet between each person and his 
neighbour. This is a precaution not always sufficiently 
attended to — especially by the guides of the Monte Eosa dis- 
trict — but it is one of the most necessary, and the most ef- 
fectual. With a party of four or five, by the proper use of 
ropes, all danger from concealed crevasses may be eliminated. 

* Their use is traditional at Chamouni. Mr. Auldjo mentions 
them, in the account of his ascent of Mont Blanc, thirty years ago. 



326 



TELESCOPE. 



The alpenstock is, of course, absolutely indispensable, 
and, on the more difficult glacier passes, it is a great help 
to have it long enough. The guides often use very short 
ones, to save the extra weight of a larger pole ; but the 
traveller must remember that his power of dispensing with 
this kind of assistance will generally fall far short of that of 
his guides. Six feet is not at all too long for the great 
expeditions. On many of these, a stout ice-hatchet is also 
necessary, to cut steps in the ice. 

A telescope, a compass, and a book for pressing flowers 
have been mentioned as pleasant additions to the necessary 
outfit. Not only is it a source of never failing interest 
and pleasure to observe the peculiarities, and scan the details 
of structure, of such lofty crags, glaciers and summits, as you 
can never attain ; to pry into recesses to which nature has 
denied all approach ; to examine geological and physical 
conformations which can give little information to the un- 
assisted eye ; to watch from afar the jealous movements of the 
chamois, or the quaint and fearful habits of the marmot — 
but the aid of the telescope is not seldom of more essential 
service, in enabling you to tell, from a long distance, where 
you must attempt a difficult passage, or scale an almost 
impassable arete; thus saving you a world of labour in 
wandering to and fro, when you are actually involved in 
the difficulties, and, from their very proximity, unable to 
discern as clearly as you may from a distance, in what 
quarter or direction they may be most successfully assailed. 
Nor is the pocket-compass a useless auxiliary. It is true, 
you seldom venture into situations of extreme difficulty 
without better guides than the compass ; but, in a fog or 
a storm, the best guide may occasionally be at fault ; and, 



HOW TO PRESS FLOWERS. 



327 



if not for purposes of safety, it is always useful for those 
of interest and enjoyment. With a good map and a com- 
pass, you may generally make out every summit, or other 
object of consequence in the view. Without it, it is not 
always easy for the most careful and experienced eye to 
avoid making mistakes, owing to the extreme diversity of 
appearance which the most familiar peaks and rocks present, 
according to the direction from which they are beheld or 
approached. 

The book for pressing flowers affords the means of 
bringing home, with little trouble, a most graceful and 
agreeable memento of the scenes which have been visited. 
The mistake commonly made in pressing flowers is to take 
far too much trouble about them. A blank book of 
common paper, not glazed, with tolerably stiff sides and a 
clasp, or with a piece of string tied round it, is all that 
is wanted. The book may be carried in the pocket, and 
no care need be taken to prevent its knocking about. 
It will be at hand, whenever a rare specimen, or a lovely 
colour, tempts the traveller. The flower may be im- 
mediately, placed between the leaves, wherever there may 
be room for it, and the a book tied up and slipped in the 
pocket again. The process is no interruption, even 
on the longest and most difficult marches. In the 
evenings, and while the traveller is waiting for meals, or 
at any other odd times of leisure, the flowers which are 
dry enough may be secured in their places, by stitching 
them in — a needle and thread being always kept in the 
book — and their names and localities written underneath. 

Most of them keep their colour far better, for not 
being exposed to so much pressure as is usually applied, 



328 



HOW TO PRESS FLOWERS. 



and to the absorbing action of the blotting paper, which 
often, especially nnder great pressure, takes up a large part 
of the colouring matter of the flower ; and flowers dried 
thus look more natural, and unconstrained, if I may use 
such an expression, than those which have been dried 
in the ordinary way. Some of the extremely thin and 
delicate flowers — such as the cistuses — suffer, no doubt, 
from want of extreme precaution, but most gain by its 
absence. Mowers gathered at a height of ten or twelve 
thousand feet, it would be difficult to preserve at all, in any 
other way, and those persons, at any rate, whose object 
is rather picturesque than botanical will find this sug- 
gestion useful. It is no small advantage to multiply 
the means of constant and agreeable occupation, even 
among the Alps ; and I have found the flowers and the 
journal invaluable companions, on many a rainy day, at 
such places as La Burka, Saas or St. Eemy. 

With rare exceptions, such as in crossing the Spliigen or 
the Simplon, it is bad policy to walk where you can ride in 
carriages. Even as a matter of economy, it is questionable ; 
at least, where the object is rather to see as much, and as 
well, as possible, than to spend as much time as possible. 
Por three or four persons, there is very little difference be- 
tween the cost of walking and that of riding, a given distance 
along a carriage road, while the dust knocks the feet to pieces. 

A good walker seldom gains anything by taking a horse 
or a mule ; neither animal can go so fast, or so h 
as an active man can walk. The rider cannot stoop to 
pick up this flower or that stone, or turn aside to examine 
this or that little object of curiosity ; in the driver, he is 
generally encumbered with an ignorant and incurious 



RIDING. 



329 



attendant ; he cannot make his halts when and where he 
likes ; and it is seldom that he can keep his faculties of 
observation or enjoyment alive and awake, under the 
monotonous motion of riding at a slow foot-pace, as he 
can during the pleasant exertion of walking. The expense 
of mules and horses in the Alps is great, and unless you 
take them for days together, and contrive to bring them 
back to the point of starting, there is always a heavy 
demand for back fare. 

There are a great many passes in Switzerland which it 
is perfectly safe, during the summer season, in almost all 
weathers, to cross without a guide. Such, amongst 
others, are the Col de Balme, the Tete Noire, the Col 
de Yosa, the Great St. Bernard, the Ghemmi and the 
Grimsel ; over most of which, a guide is about as much 
needed as on the Malvern Hills or the Wrekin. There 
are some, again, which, though not so easy as these, may 
yet be safely crossed, in fine weather, by an experienced 
pedestrian, without a guide, or trusting, at all events, 
to the shepherds and cattle-tenders he may find in the 
mountains ; but few of the considerable glacier passes 
ought to be taken without good guides, except by the 
most practised and skilful mountaineers, and then, only in 
parties of not less than three. In 1853, a gentleman 
persisted, in spite of all possible expostulation and warn- 
ing, in forcing his way across the Col d'Erin by himself ; 
but it was a wild and unjustifiable attempt, though it 
succeeded, and ought never to be imitated. The subject 
of glaciers and their phenomena is a difficult and com- 
plicated one; and it is not a slight, or a theoretical, ac- 
quaintance with them that will render even an observant 



330 



GUIDE. 



man competent to trust himself alone amongst their 
wonders and their perils. There are sometimes, also, 
dangers peculiar to individual glaciers, and of which a 
stranger cannot possibly, at first sight, detect the existence. 

The pleasantest plan for a pedestrian is to secure a 
first-rate guide at starting, and to keep him during 
the whole tour. A good guide is generally a very in- 
telligent man, with a great love of nature and of adventure, 
often, with a considerable amount of acquired information, 
and with manners more like those of a gentleman than are 
to be found amongst men of any other class, in the same 
rank of society. He is attentive to all that can supply 
your wants, or add to your comforts ; he is a sort of 
personal servant, almost a valet ; he will talk to you, when 
you wish to talk, but never obtrudes himself, if you want 
to be quiet. On arriving at a town or village, he knows, 
or will find out, where the best accommodation can be had, 
and will supply any other kind of local information you 
may desire. He will execute all your little commissions, 
and will often save you from thirty to fifty per cent on what 
you would pay without him, as he is strictly and scrupulously 
honest, and would not cheat you of a centime, or see you 
imposed upon, if he could help it. If you treat him kindly, 
he soon becomes personally attached to you ; and, in all 
instances, he will risk his life to save yours. He will 
carry your traps, and think nothing of it, and point 
out to you a thousand objects of interest, which, but 
for him, you would have overlooked. He has travelled 
over all parts of Switzerland, and commonly knows many 
passes well, besides those of bis own district. Nor is he 
so expensive a luxury as, at first sight, you might imagine. 



GUIDE. 



331 



You pay him from five to seven francs a day, according to 
what sort of a jonrney you are going to take; and there 
are no extras, except that on a long glacier pass, or 
wherever you take your provisions with you, you provide 
for him as well as yourself. He asks, and he expects, no 
more than you have agreed upon with him, though, 
probably, if you have been together for a month, you will 
spontaneously make him a little present, on parting ; and, 
of course, you always pay him for the number of days it 
will take him to get home, after he leaves you. When you 
ride, he will probably save you more than his day's pay, in 
the hire of carriages ; for he knows the exact price which 
ought to be paid for every journey, and has means of 
inquiring after return-carriages and the like, which you 
cannot have. When you are going to cross a glacier pass 
which requires two or more guides, he will be a great 
saving to you, as he still receives only his day's pay, 
whereas the other guide or guides, who go only for that 
" course/' will demand twice or three times as much. 

A few words may not be out of place, as to the accom- 
modation likely to be met with in the High Alps. Of the 
larger hotels, I have not much to say. They are generally 
good, often excellent, and far cheaper than our own. My 
remarks apply chiefly to the humbler class of inns, with which 
the pedestrian in the High Alps is more particularly con- 
cerned. Generally speaking, those North of the main chain 
of the Alps are better than those on the South, Of the latter, 
my principal experience has been in the valleys of Piedmont, 
where there is a considerable tendency both to dirt and to 
cheating. An Englishman is generally looked upon as a 
fat prize, not to be captured every day, and to be made the 



332 



ITALIAN INNS. 



most of, when he does happen to fall into the net. The 
bill is generally made ont according to the presumed in- 
experience, or facility of the person to whom it is to be 
presented, and I have known the same traveller charged, 
at the same inn, according to two perfectly different scales, 
on occasions within a very short time of one another. 
Recourse is had to every improbable plan, to swell the 
amount. Sometimes, every single article at a meal, down 
to the salt, will be put down separately, and the total 
brought up to something enormous. Sometimes, a more 
expensive wine will be purposely substituted for what you 
have ordered, and then an attempt made, at all events, to 
charge for it in the bill. Sometimes, your guide's meal will 
be inserted, at a price far above what would be charged to 
himself. In fact, there is no device which will not be tried, 
and the only way of meeting the trick is to put down what 
you think a fair price for what you have had, and steadily to 
refuse to pay more. It might be supposed that the alterca- 
tion would lead to incivility and unpleasantness ; but, on the 
contrary, you will get on a great deal better with mine 
host, who respects you all the more for beating him down, 
and, after accepting half or two-thirds of his demand, he 
will overload you with civilities which he showed, no in- 
clination to bestow upon you before. There is probably 
no country in the world like Italy, in this respect, and, 
however fastidious the traveller maybe, when he begins his 
journey, he will at length be convinced that there is nothing 
for it, but to make a stand, unless he chooses to be cheated 
from morning till night. 

In the matter of carriages, the innkeepers of these parts 
are utterly and absolutely without scruple. From Aosta 



IRREGULAR CHARGES. 



333 



to St. Bemy, I have been charged, under precisely similar 
circumstances, once twenty francs, once fifteen francs, and 
once twelve francs. From Chatillon, we were forwarded 
in a " belle caleche, " dirtier than any other I ever saw, 
to Aosta, with a horse that had been bled, as we afterwards 
ascertained, the day before, and which was obliged to 
walk most of the way, at a charge of sixteen francs — the 
real fare, for a respectable vehicle, being ten or twelve 
francs. "For a carriage from Ivrea to Aosta, I knew a 
hundred and twenty francs extorted from an in- 
perienced traveller; whereas, from Arona to Aosta, 
double the distance — where, by the way, there is a 
landlord who forms a striking exception to the gene- 
ral rule — the regular charge is but a hundred and ten 
francs. I have never known anything so bad as this, 
on the north side of the great chain ; but Switzerland, to 
do her justice, is not very far behind her sister, Piedmont. 
Many of the classes with which the traveller comes more 
particularly in contact, are like the three daughters of the 
horse-leech, always crying, " give, give/' The number 
of beggars in the Oberland, of all ages, and of both sexes, 
is quite fearful. On the beautiful coins of the Swiss 
confederation, Helvetia is represented as stretching forth 
her arm over her magnificent domains ; in the back ground, 
the fairest, at once, and the most majestic of her peaks, 
the scarce trodden Jungfrau. It would be no unapt 
emblem of the character of a great part of the nation, 
were she pictured as holding out her clutching fingers, in 
the attitude of greedy and importunate mendicity. 

The spirit that animates the beggars of the Oberland 
too often shows itself, under another form, in the attempts 



334 THE ENGLISH OVERCHARGED. 

at extortion by which the innkeeper seeks to increase his 
legitimate earnings. To multiply instances would be out 
of place ; but the following cases betray a shamelessness 
of imposition which make them worth relating. Owing 
to an accident, I was obliged to remain three days, a close 
prisoner to the sofa, at the comfortable inn at Sonceboz, 
in the Minister Thai. To the attention and kindness I 
received from the servants, I can bear willing and grateful 
testimony ; but the master I never saw, till the time for 
departure arrived. In the course of my three days' deten- 
tion at a place at which diligences are arriving and halting 
many times in the day, I unavoidably saw many a meal 
paid for, and from this circumstance, as well as from 
entering into conversation with travellers who passed 
through, became well acquainted with the prices regularly 
charged for every meal. What was my surprise, when the 
bill was brought for myself and friends, to find that from 
half a franc to a franc, was added on, to each meal, for each 
person. I sent for the landlord, who at once admitted 
the fact, adding, that they always charged the English on 
a higher scale. Did they eat more? By no means; 
but they could afford to pay more ; " and," said he, " be 
content, you have done very well ; you came on foot, and 
I have charged you so much; had you come in a 
carriage, the charge would have been higher, for every 
meal." 

There is no colouring in this statement. It is a literally 
correct report of what actually passed, at a large and 
well-conducted inn. The second instance shall relate to 
an establishment of a different class. Many travellers 
have partaken of goats' milk, of bread and cheese, and 



"le clrage." 



335 



sour wine, at the chalet of Schwarenbach, near the top 
of the Ghemmi pass; few, probably, have slept there; 
I have, and can speak of the accommodation as better than 
might be expected. There are a few fleas, it is true ; 
but where so many goats are stalled under the house, this 
must be expected, and I make no complaint of that. 
Our party (three in number) were very tolerably housed 
and fed; the bill, however, was considerably higher than 
it would have been at a first-class hotel at Geneva or 
Berne, and included an item of two francs " pour le 
cirage." It should be borne in mind, what sort of a thing 
te blacking " boots is, among the mountains, in Switzerland. 
The process is this — a piece of lard or fat is put in a 
frying-pan, and melted over the tire, and the shoe having 
been slightly and superficially wiped with a dirty cloth, 
the liquid grease is laid on (not rubbed in) with the hand, 
or, perhaps, with a feather, or a bit of stick, and left to 
condense upon the leather. The shoe is then fit for a 
gentleman to wear ; and for this luxury, the modest sum 
of two francs for three persons was asked. It is needless 
to add that this, together with some other ingenious 
items, was disallowed, and the innkeeper still most 
liberally remunerated. 

It must be remembered, however — and I would extend 
the remark to the inn at the Col de Balme, and to any 
others that I may have mentioned disparagingly in the 
foregoing pages — that many of the smaller inns, especially 
those at great heights, change hands so often, that a cen- 
sure which is well deserved, one year, may be wholly inap- 
plicable, the next. Indeed, it is this constant change of 
landlords that makes these inns generally so indifferent. 



336 



A CHOICE. 



No man, except my enthusiastic friend of the St. Theo- 
dule, chooses, as a matter of preference, to pass the whole 
season in a bleak and desolate spot, where he must under- 
go much discomfort and privation j his object is, therefore, 
to make all he can of the speculation ; if possible, to realize 
enough to enable him to take an inn in a better situation, 
the next year. When, therefore, I have given an inn a 
bad character in 1852, 1853, or 1854, it is not necessarily 
to be inferred, that such a character is still deserved. 

The instances just mentioned illustrate the kind of 
imposition the traveller must be prepared for. Away 
from the main stopping-places, he is never safe from it. 
The best that can be said is, that it is entirely at his own 
option whether he submits to it or not. There are two 
ways in which he can get along with comfort — one is, uni- 
formly to pay whatever is asked ; the other, uniformly to 
resist imposition. It is hard to say which plan gives least 
trouble, or secures the best attention. The choice must 
lie with each individual traveller. There is this difference, 
however, that in the one case he affords, as far as oppor- 
tunity allows him, a direct and tangible bonus to knavery 
and cheating ; in the other, he discharges a public duty, 
and facilitates the progress of every subsequent traveller. 

It must not be supposed that I mean to represent this 
system as universal ; but it is so widely extended, and this 
kind of dishonesty is so common, in the less frequented 
parts of those districts to which tourists flock — where 
the thirst for gain has been whetted, but is not kept 
in check by competition and publicity — that there is an 
unpleasant consciousness of its continual probability. 
Where the conntry innkeeper is an honest man, he is 



THE ENGADINE.* 



337 



generally very attentive and hospitable. At Saas, at La 
Burka, at Erutigen, at St. Nicholas, I have met with 
hearty and unaffected kindness, which I shall not readily 
forget, and which made it difficult to believe that one was 
not enjoying the private hospitality of the host ; and the 
experience of every pedestrian will probably suggest 
similar instances, within his own recollection. I say, of 
every pedestrian, for it is the traveller on foot who comes 
principally in the way of needing, and of receiving, this 
kind of attention ; but unfortunately it cannot be reckoned 
upon, a 'priori. 

There is an amusing description of the food and lodging 
to be met with in the sequestered valley of the Engadine, 
in a pamphlet, published five or six years ago at Geneva, 
entitled, " Les Grisons et la haute Engadine/' by 
W. Key. M. Eey was employed on the Federal survey 
of Switzerland, and, as he says, did what very few persons 
have done, spent some weeks in the Grisons and the Enga- 
dine, alone, and on business — a very different thing to 
passing through them, on a journey of pleasure. " None/' 
he writes, " of those associated joys, and of those catching 
laughs, kept up by numbers, that you meet with in the 
travels of M. Topfer ; none of those charming uncertain- 
ties, of those picturesque struggles between the head of 
the column and its tail, of the laggards or the limping. 
Here, when any one lags or falls lame, it is always the 
same one, unhappily ; no neighbour to laugh at him under 
his nose, to pinch his ear, and give strength to his legs by 
a pleasantry which comes to nothing." He thus apolo- 
gizes, in his preface, for the disposition he naturally felt to 
look back rather gloomily upon his residence in the Enga- 



838 



THE ENGADINE. 



dine ; but his subsequent description does not appear to be 
overcharged. 

" The traveller at last approaches his e Croix Blanche/ 
and he will not fail to notice, from a long way off, that it is 
neither the newest nor the handsomest building in the 
village. Those are for the grandees — more or less of con- 
fectioners* — who have come back from abroad. Small 
windows, through which a slender Spanish beauty could 
pass no more than her head, a low door, under which you 
must stoop to enter — regular Caudine forks for the master, 
proud as you will find him. The traveller enters, and 
finds himself before the broad, honest face of a landlord 
who examines him, and with whom he tranquilly exchanges 
the following sentences : 

" ' You are the innkeeper ?' 

" 6 Yes, what do you wish for/ says the aforesaid face. 

" c To lodge, sup, go to bed .... 5 

" ' Ta, ta, ta ! at what a pace you are going at it people 
do only one thing at a time in the Yal — — , Sir stranger ; 
but they do it well, it must be owned V 

" c Well then, to prove it ; show me your bed-rooms/ 

" ' Is it the bed-room you mean ? } 

" ' Have you only one ?' 

" ' Certainly ; what did you look for ?' 

" ' You could not lodge much company, then ?' 

" ' A thousand pardons ! we make up another bed, in 
case of need. Aye, surely; at a pinch, to tell you the 
truth, we could have two bed-rooms for guests ; but m 
wife has just taken one to store her potatoes/ 

* The author has previously told us that half the confectioners 
in Europe come from the Engadine. 



AN INDEPENDENT HOST. 



339 



" This is said with a tone fit to set off the impor- 
tance of the precious bulb imported from abroad. In a 
word, let not the traveller be under a mistake, as to his 
state of independence in these valleys : he is tolerated, and 
that is all. As for the inn, it is the mansion of the inn- 
keeper, of his family, and of his work-people ; they occupy 
from four to six rooms in it. The master thinks he has 
done too much honour to his sign, when he has given up 
two rooms to travellers, with two or three beds in each, and 
he considers the demand of a room to oneself an exorbitant 
one, which must be paid for accordingly. ' The hay-loft 
takes up an immense deal of my room, as it is f he an- 
swers you. It would be absolute rashness to call land- 
lords so jealous of their independence, innkeepers. Some- 
times, after the soup, you ask for meat, boiled or roast, but 
in vain ; they don't hear you, and won't hear you for a 
good half hour ; the ordinary matters of the household call 
for the master's attention all this time ; and if you call 
a little too loud, he will come in and serve you up a 
course of moralizing, without hesitation. Have patience, 
for your own sake, my famished friend, and sop fingers of 
bread in wine and water ; the landlord is keeping himself 
to bring you up the end of your dinner with his own 
hands, and then he will answer all your questions with 
condescension and dignity. He is a good-hearted fellow, 
in his own way, is that man ; handle him gently, that to- 
morrow he may lend you a great cloak, so that you can 
pass the night on the mountain, in an excursion.""* 

The traveller in any of the remote valleys of Switzerland 
must, of course, be prepared for very homely accommoda- 
* Pages 65 — 68. 

Q 2 



340 



DAMP BEDS. 



tion and indifferent fare. Indeed, amongst the mountains, 
a forty -horse power of digestion is an invaluable qualifica- 
tion. There are many parts, such as the more unfrequented 
valleys about Monte Rosa, where hardly anything can be 
got to eat, which, at home, we should not cautiously eschew. 
Sour bread, acid wine, meats stewed in vinegar or oil, or 
boiled to a tasteless rag, must be the staple of your food. 

This, however, is a small matter, compared with the love 
of garlic which prevails. You are offered eggs and bacon 
— nothing can sound more promising, but they prove to 
have been fried in a garlicky pan. The omelette is seasoned 
with the same flavour ; the bread is difficult to impregnate 
with it, but the knife with which you cut it has just been 
used for chopping garlic. The meat you take up with you 
to the mountain top, and which looks so tempting at a 
height of some twelve or thirteen thousand feet, is no 
sooner in your mouth, than you are obliged to evict it, to 
escape the overpowering relish of the garlic, with which it 
was boiled, or which was scraped over it as it roasted. 
Even boiled eggs are hardly safe. 

This drawback, however, is not in reality so formidable as 
it might, at first sight, appear, since the rude health enjoyed 
among the mountains enables you to digest, without incon- 
venience, food that you would shudder at in England. 
" Fames optimum jus," is a truth you illustrate, every hour 
of your life. 

A more serious evil, is the difficulty of finding a good 
bed. I say nothing of its being hard, knotty, or small ; 
the man who cannot put up with such little discomforts is 
not fit to travel ; but it is often not only dirty, but what is 
worse, damp. The hardiest pedestrian is liable, in this 



THE CHALET-ELEA. 



341 



way, to catch a cold which may entail very serious con- 
sequences. There are parts, again, where it is hopeless to 
expect entirely to get rid of fleas, until you have left the 
district. The heavier artillery you seldom meet with in 
Switzerland, unless unhappily driven to a second-rate inn 
in a large town, where you may suffer greatly from them. 
But in the north of Italy, and in the Swiss valleys 
bordering upon Italy, the fleas are very plentiful and 
hungry, and constitute a formidable race. They are larger 
and more irritating than the British animal, and cause a 
good deal of real annoyance. The most terrible being of 
his order is the chalet-flea, found almost universally in the 
chalets — a blood-sucker sui generis : so greedy, so in- 
satiable, and so tenacious is he. If it is desirable to 
shorten a long expedition, by sleeping at a chalet on the 
route, always try, if possible, to find one which has a 
detached barn, or " grange." The hay in this is almost 
always clean, and, when skilfully arranged, affords a warm 
and excellent couch — and tying your handkerchief over 
your head, to guard against the wind that comes whistling 
through the crannies of the loose stone walls, and rolling 
yourself well down into the hay, you may sleep as softly 
and sweetly as on a bed of down. But in the chalet itself 
it is another story — one, over whose horrors we prefer to 
draw the veil of silence, and leave the details to the imagina- 
tion of the reader. He may indulge his fancy freely. His 
conception will certainly fall short of the reality. 

It is almost superfluous to observe, that the pleasure of 
the traveller will depend very much upon the disposition 
in which he meets such inconveniences as we have glanced 
at. To him who encounters them in a cheerful spirit, and 



342 



THE BRITISH GRUMBLER. 



with unruffled temper, they will seem but small, compared 
with the pleasures he is continually enjoying, and, when 
past, they will afford many a smile in the retrospect. If, 
on the other hand, they are made the worst of, it is quite 
possible that the pleasure of the trip may be effectually 
marred, so that it shall seem one series of continual annoy- 
ances and discomforts, from beginning to end. " The 
British grumbler" is much better at home — for he not only 
makes himself, but all those around him, uncomfortable, 
unless they are wise enough only to laugh at the expres- 
sions of his spleen. Half the inconveniences of travel 
melt away before the sunshine of a little good humour and 
cheerfulness. 

Nothing can be a greater mistake, than to suppose that, 
because imposition is to be resolutely withstood, it is either 
necessary or advisable to assume an air of mistrust and 
defiance. The experienced traveller knows that, with the 
exception, perhaps, of a gentle hint or two about the bougies, 
it is quite time to remonstrate, when the bill comes, if the 
charges are not fair. By anticipating, you may suggest 
imposition, and as " forewarned is forearmed," where the 
disposition to cheat exists, it will often be much more 
skilfully carried into effect, by a man who knows that his 
bill is to undergo taxation. At all events, it is better 
policy to go on smoothly, as long as possible. It takes 
some amount of practice and experience to know exactly 
when and where to make a stand. Nothing is more 
injudicious or improper, than to make an undiscriminating 
attack upon inn-keepers and their bills, wherever the 
charges seem a little high, without reference to circum- 
stance or place. It is reasonable that you should pay a 



WHAT TO RESIST. 



343 



good deal more at the top of the Eaulhorn, or at the Col de 
Balme, than for the same accommodation at Grindelwald or 
Chamouni. INTo man ought to grumble at being asked a 
moderate sum for fire, when every stick of fuel has to be 
transported, two or three leagues, on the backs of mules or 
horses. In places of this kind, it is quite fair that the 
price paid should be such as, in the plains, would secure 
very superior accommodation; but when the same in- 
dulgence is claimed for very inferior inns, merely because 
they are situated in a high valley, where, nevertheless, 
flocks, herds, corn and wood are all the produce of the 
neighbourhood, and the simple fare supplied is procured 
quite as easily as at lower elevations, the demand is an im- 
position, and is most properly resisted. So, if the traveller 
has conclusive proof that he is charged fifty per cent, 
higher than his neighbour, because he comes from the 
opposite side of the British channel — this is an extortion 
which will almost justify a violent outbreak. He is 
always right, again, in refusing to pay for what he has not 
had, or for what is always included in the charge for some- 
thing else, for which he pays liberally. If " salt" is made 
an item in the dinner bill, the man who pays for it, though 
it be but five centimes, does a public wrong. Where bed- 
rooms are fairly charged, no one ought to pay for a bougie ; 
nor for "le cirage," when his boots have been coarsely 
tallowed over ; nor for " calling," which is a part of the 
service of the house ; nor for ' ' a bath," when he has had a 
few quarts of hot water for his feet. Bat if a notice is 
fairly posted up, that if he takes the blankets from his bed, 
to cover his shivering form while watching a sunrise at the 
Eaulhorn, he will be expected to pay something extra for 



344 AN INTRACTABLE TRAVELLER. 



the wear and tear, and abnormal use of the article, it is 
hardly fair for him to object to half a franc in his bill for 
the accommodation. If his clothes have been so hopelessly 
drenched, that it has been necessary to keep up a fire all 
night, to dry them, it is not unreasonable that a small 
charge should make its appearance in his reckoning, even 
though it should exceed the actual cost of the fuel. 

In all such matters, judgment must be exercised; 
nothing makes a man appear more foolish than an un^ 
successful resistance, where he is really in the wrong; 
in winch case, it is sure to recoil on himself. Perhaps a 
gentleman, whose confidence in his knowledge of Swiss 
travelling is considerable, resolves to take a lady, or a 
couple of ladies, with him, across a glacier pass. He has 
been over the Col de Yosa, the Tete Noire, the Ghemmi, 
may be even the Col de Bonhomme, where there was a 
great patch of snow at the top. He knows it is all non- 
sense, their talking of chaises- a-porteurs ; the mules can do 
it well enough ; there is no difficulty ; they will get up to 
their usual nine o' clock breakfast, and start comfortably 
towards the middle of the day. In vain, the host, and 
even the more experienced travellers present, assure him 
the thing is impossible ; the snow would be so soft, before 
they reached the glacier, that the mules would be lost in 
it, even could they cross at all, at this period of the season ; 
and the whole party would be caught, at nightfall, just in 
the middle of the ice. He knows better; it is all the 
laziness of those rascally guides, who want to get a 
monstrous sum out of him ; but they have the wrong man 
to deal with ; he will start at twelve o' clock, if it is only 
to make them work for once in their lives. The guides 



A DIFFICULTY. 



345 



are ordered ; but, to his surprise, they positively refuse to 
start after six o' clock. In a tiff, he says if they won't 
go at mid-day, they shall go at mid-night ; and after some 
preliminary altercation about the unnecessary preparations 
they propose, he orders his mules at twelve o'clock that 
night. The whole staff of the establishment has to stay 
up, long after their usual bed-time, to give him his eleven 
o'clock meal ; and then comes the start ; but this time he 
is caught ; the guides see their customer, and have resolved 
he shall smart for his distrust and arrogance. They 
absolutely refuse to stir a step, unless he will take a 
chaise-a-porteur and twelve bearers, for each lady. The 
mules can go to the edge of the glacier, but Monsieur 
will arrive there in two or three hours, and it is not light 
enough to trust the mules on the glacier, till five, at the 
earliest. Perhaps they are right, but at all events they 
are firm — Monsieur is in a cleft stick. It will not do to 
stay now, for everybody had heard of his determination, 
and he is at length obliged to yield, with a very bad grace, 
and his little expedition costs him some £15 or 
£20, before he has done with it. Next morning, at 
breakfast, the story is told by the waiter to each party 
successively, as they inquire after the gentleman who was 
to start at mid-night : how the guides declared that the ice 
was very bad, and it was very dangerous to cross before 
the sun was up, and Monsieur had gone off with a retinue 
of some thirty attendants ; but no sympathy is felt for him, 
and some of those whose advice had been slighted even 
experience a secret satisfaction at the difficulty in which he 
has involved himself, by his intractable disposition. The 
case is an extreme, but not an imaginary, one ; such things 

Q3 



346 



MAKING THE BEST OF IT. 



do happen, and a man cannot travel much without observ- 
ing, and if he be wise, taking warning by them. It is far 
better even to put up with a little imposition, than, by 
meeting it in a violent and presumptuous manner, to 
expose oneself to ignominious discomfiture. 

There are no situations in which a man will realize 
so thoroughly the effects upon his own happiness and 
comfort, of a joyous, hearty and contented disposition, 
of a resolute determination to take everything as it comes 
and make the best of it, and to preserve his good humour 
and courtesy, under all circumstances, and towards all men, 
as in those which form the daily round of the traveller's 
life. A man who pursues his course in this spirit, who is 
willing to make allowance for differences of country, 
education, habits and manners, and strives, as far as 
practicable, to accommodate himself to the customs and 
notions of those among whom his lot, for the time being, is 
cast, will extract either some present pleasure or some 
amusing association for the future, from every incident, 
however unpromising, which befalls him; and will not 
only come home to his duties, whatever they be, with mind 
refreshed and body invigorated, with store of agreeable 
recollections and cheerful thoughts, but will leave a pleasant 
impression of himself and his countrymen, wherever he has 
been, while perhaps his neighbour, who has been over the 
very same ground, but in a different mood, has done his 
best to confirm the prejudice so often indulged in by 
foreigners — but which each succeeding year of more 
unrestricted intercourse is helping to break down — that the 
English are a grumbling, morose and overbearing nation. 
TThat his own pleasure has been, it is not difficult to esti- 



Horace's advice. 



347 



mate. The counsel given, long ago, to a gentleman on his 
travels may still be taken to heart as profitably as ever :• — 

" Tu, quamcimque Deus tibi fortunaverit lioram, 
Grata sume manu ; * * * 

Ut quocunque loco fueris, vixisse libenter 
Te dicas : nam si ratio et prudentia curas, 
Non locus effusi late maris arbiter, aufert ; 
Coelum, non animum, mutant qui trans mare currant." 



CHAPTER XYL 

GLACIER ACTION AND GLACIER THEORIES. 



Ye ice-falls ! ye that from the mountain's brow 
Adown enormous ravines slope amain — 
Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, 
And stopped at once, amid their maddest play — 
Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! 

Coleridge. 



STRIKING NATURE OE GLACIER PHENOMENA — ACTIVITY OF 
GLACIERS — MORAINES AND GLACIER TABLES — DIFFERENT 
REGIONS OF A GLACIER — MOTION OF GLACIERS — HUGI — AGASSIZ 
— FORBES — CREVASSES — THE " GRAVITATION THEORY " OF 
DE SAUSSURE — THE " DILATATION THEORY " OF CHARPENTIER AND 
AGASSIZ — SUGGESTION OF MR. MOSELEY — "VISCOUS THEORY" OF 

PROFESSOR FORBES MR. CHRISTIE'S EXPERIMENT — FORBEs's 

EXPERIMENTS — GEOLOGICAL HISTORY OF GLACIERS — ERRATIC 
BLOCKS — TRACES OF GLACIER ACTION IN WALES — FORMER VAST 
EXTENSION OF GLACIERS. 

There is hardly a subject in the whole range of science 
more eminently calculated to arrest attention, and excite 
interest, than the investigation of the phenomena and 
causes of glacier action. For, whether we regard those 



GLACIER PHENOMENA. 



349 



majestic accumulations of ice and snow, in themselves, and 
as forming some of the most picturesque and the grandest 
objects in creation, or fix the mind upon the vast part which 
they play, and the vaster part which, in ages past, they have 
played, in the economy of the physical world ; whether we 
contemplate them merely as the most striking features in 
the great panorama of the Alps, the Andes or the Hima- 
layas, or as an important agent in securing to the interior 
of large continents regular and constant supplies of water, 
by means of the rivers which they feed, and which carry 
verdure and fertility into regions that would otherwise be 
but arid wastes, they are full of material for interesting 
speculation, to the lover of nature, the poet, and the 
philosopher, alike. Their phenomena are on a scale which 
cannot escape the notice of the most casual observer. 
Vast walls of granite boulders, built across the valleys, or 
along their sides — rivers arrested in their courses, and 
dammed up, so as to create great lakes — huge blocks of stone 
transported bodily from the loftiest summits to the lowest 
valleys — the solid earth wrinkled in front of the advancing 
mass, like a frail sheet of paper — the surface of the living rock 
rounded and polished, sometimes for miles together — such 
are the marks of their agency which meet the eye at every 
step, and which he who runs may read, though he may 
not understand. Nor is the eye the only sense to which 
they appeal. Erom morning till night, the glacier speaks 
with almost ceaseless utterance, now in the sharp report 
of an opening crevasse, like the crack of a rifle, now in the 
crash of the falling avalanche, like the roar of a 
hundred pieces of artillery. These indications of glacier 



350 



GLACIER PHENOMENA. 



activity are patent to every one ; but for the philo- 
sopher, and the accurate and scientific observer, there 
are others, less obvious, but perhaps more instructive and 
significant. The tiny scratches on the polished rock — the 
light deposit of curved and concentric dirt-bands, which 
can only be seen at sunset from some neighbouring height 
— the delicate veins of green and granulated ice, which in- 
tersect the denser and more closely compacted structure of 
the general mass — the superposition of different layers of 
snow, belonging to different years, as seen in the bosom of 
a deep crevasse — these are specimens of the language in 
which they reveal their origin, their composition and their 
history to the philosophic mind of a de Saussure, an Agassiz, 
or a Forbes. 

Considering the obvious and striking character of many 
of these phenomena, we are almost tempted to wonder, that 
it was so long before they attracted scientific attention; 
but our wonder ceases, when we reflect that the regions 
where alone these phenomena display themselves are remote 
and rugged, and that within little more than half a century, 
a journey to Chamouni was a scarcely less formidable 
undertaking than at present would be a journey to the 
wilds of Siberia, or to the icy wastes of Spitzbergen or 
Nova Zembla. De Saussure travelled among the valleys 
of the Alps with a retinae which would now suffice for a 
difficult exploring expedition in the Cordilleras, or the 
Eocky Mountains. In the northern valleys of Piedmont, 
and in the southern valleys of Switzerland, the more 
terrible apprehension of robbery and assassination was 
added to the awe inspired by natural obstacles and dangers. 



GLACIER, ACTIVITY. 



351 



It is, therefore, not surprising, that the oldest and crudest 
glacier theory dates no further back than the time of that 
great philosopher and naturalist, de Saussure. 

My purpose is not to give any elaborate details as to the 
structure and movement of glaciers, but simply to attempt 
a short and popular account of the different theories which 
have been framed to explain the results observed, together 
with some examination of their respective merits. It is 
almost needless to say, that I make no claim to originality 
on behalf of this chapter, the contents of which are ne- 
cessarily, in a great measure, abridged from Charpentier, 
Agassiz, Forbes, and other distinguised philosophers who 
have written on the subject of glaciers. 

Reference has been made, in a former chapter, to the 
state of continual restlessness and change which charac- 
terizes a glacier; the following most animated and graphic 
picture of glacier life is drawn by Professor Forbes. 
Speaking of the Glacier de Miage, in the Allee Blanche, 
he says : 

" The fissures were numerous and large ; .... so uneven, 
and at such angles, as often to leave nothing like a plain 
surface to the ice, but a series of unformed ridges, like 
the heaving of a sluggish mass struggling with intestine 
commotion, and tossing about over its surface, as if in 
sport, the stupendous blocks of granite which half choke 
its crevasses, and to which the traveller is often glad to 
cling, when the glacier itself yields him no farther passage. 
It is then that he surveys with astonishment the strange 
law of the ice-world, that stones, always falling, seem never 
to be absorbed — that, like the fable of Sisyphus reversed, 
the lumbering mass, ever falling, never arrives at the 



852 



GLACIER ACTIVITY. 



bottom, but seems urged by an unseen force still to ride 
on the highest pinnacles of the rugged surface. But let the 
pedestrian beware how he trusts to these huge masses, or 
considers them as stable. Yonder huge rock, which seems 
' fixed as Snowdon/ and which interrupts his path along a 
narrow ridge of ice, having a gulf on either hand, is so 
nicely poised, e obsequious to the gentlest touch/ that the 
fall of a pebble, or the pressure of a passing foot, will shove 
it into one or other abyss, and the chances are, may carry 
him along with it. Let him beware, too, how he treads on 
that gravelly bank, which seems to offer a rough and sure 
footing, for underneath there is sure to be the most 
pellucid ice ; and a light footstep there, which might not 
disturb a rocking stone, is pregnant with danger. All is on 
the eve of motion. Let him sit awhile, as I did, on the 
moraine of Miage, and watch the silent energy of the ice and 
the sun. No animal ever passes, but yet the stillness of death 
is not there ; the ice is cracking and straining onwards 
— the gravel slides over the bed to which it was frozen 
during the night, but now lubricated by the effect of sun- 
shine. The fine sand detached loosens the gravel which it 
supported, the gravel the little fragments, and the little 
fragments the great, till, after some preliminary noise, 
the thunder of clashing rocks is heard, which settle into 
the bottom of some crevasse, and all is again still."* 

De Saussure, in his " Voyages dans les Alpes/' — one of 
the most delightful books of travels ever published — 
records a striking result of the gradual and progressive 
movement of a glacier, which, at the same time, afforded a 



* ff Travels through the Alps of Savoy," pp. 198—9. 



GLACIER ACTIVITY. 



353 



conclusive proof of its continued activity during the winter 
season, during which period, it is worthy of remark, the 
motion was, for a length of time, believed entirely to 
cease. 

He writes thus : — " As the glacier and its environs were 
wholly covered with snow, when it pushed forward the 
earth accumulated in front of its icy mass, this earth, in 
crumbling down, fell upon the snow, and made evident the 
slightest movements of the glacier, which continued under 
my eyes during the whole time of my observations. But 
it is in summer that the greatest effects are seen to result 
from this pressure of the ice against bodies which oppose its 
descent. The following is an example : — In the month of 
July, 176], I was passing with my guide, Pierre Simon, 
under a very high glacier, to the west of the Glacier des 
Pelerins. I noticed a block of granite, of nearly cubical 
form, and more than forty feet each way, poised upon the 
debris at the foot of the glacier, and which had been 
deposited in this spot by the same glacier. ' Let us hasten 
on/ said Pierre to me, c for the ice which abuts upon this 
rock might push it forward, and roll it on to us/ Scarcely 
had we passed, when it began to slip ; it slid first gently 
enough over the debris which served for its base ; then it 
fell upon its front face, then upon another face ; gradually, 
it began to roll, and as the slope became more rapid, it 
began to take leaps, first small, but soon immense. At each 
bound, splinters, both of the block itself, and of the rocks 
upon which it fell, leaped into the air ; these fragments 
rolled after it down the slope of the mountain, and so 
formed a torrent of rocks, great and small, which in their 
course crushed to pieces the top of a forest in which they 



354 



GLACIER TABLES. 



finally stopped, after having, in a few moments, cleared a 
space of nearly half a league, with a noise and ravage 
winch were astonishing." 

The vast and irresistible force exerted by a glacier in its 
progress is sufficiently evinced, not only by such phe- 
nomena as the one thus vividly described, but by the huge 
dimensions of the blocks carried along upon its surface 
and the amazing mass often accumulated in its moraines. 
The great glacier table, figured in the frontispiece to the 
work of Professor Forbes already quoted from, was 23 feet 
long, 17 feet wide, and 3 or 4 feet thick, and rested upon a 
pillar of beautifully veined ice, 13 feet high, and was so 
delicately poised that it was impossible to conjecture in 
which direction its fall would occur. Its contents may be 
estimated roundly, at more than 40,000 cubic feet. 

In following the course of a glacier, by ascending from 
its base to its source among the mountains, the traveller 
passes through several distinct tracts or regions, marked 
by features almost as characteristic as those which distin- 
guish the several zones of vegetation, at different elevations 
on the sides of Cotopaxi or Chimborazo. The first or 
lowest part of his path lies over a rugged mass, whose 
inclination often amounts to 15° or 20°, consisting of 
innumerable lumps of ice, firmly compacted, only sepa- 
rated by capillary fissures, and marked by crevasses, whose 
curvature and general disposition assume a certain degree 
of regularity. Throughout this region, the snow which 
falls during the winter is completely melted during the 
summer. As he ascends, the slope of the glacier becomes 
gradually less, diminishing to 6° or 10°, till he has 
reached an elevation of some 8000 feet, at which height 



DIVISIONS OF A GLACIER. 



355 



the region commences which is termed by the French natu- 
ralists, Neve, and by the Germans, Firn ; " where the 
surface of the glacier begins to be annually renewed by 
the unmelted accumulation of each winter." The crevasses 
now become more irregular, attain dimensions more formi- 
dable than in any other part, and are further distinguished 
by often exhibiting in their sides a decided stratification, 
the several layers corresponding to the yearly deposits of 
snow upon the surface. Lastly, at an elevation exceeding 
9000 or 10,000 feet, the glacier, as well as the peaks 
and ledges abutting upon it, is covered with snow of daz- 
zling brilliancy. 

We thus trace a gradual change in the state of aggrega- 
tion of the mass, from the highest part down to the 
lowest ; a condition, namely, of progressive consolidation. 
"While we thus see the snow which annually falls upon the 
higher slopes of the glacier gradually converted into strata 
of ice, and assimilated with the general mass, on the other 
hand we observe as constant a waste of the surface in the 
lower parts, and while, on the whole, the point to which a 
glacier descends remains nearly stationary, or as often 
recedes as advances, from year to year, the supply of fresh 
matter to its upper extremity, particularly during winter, 
is constant and unfailing. 

These phenomena in themselves would afford, if not a 
positive proof, yet a strong presumption, that the compa- 
rison is a true one, by which glaciers have been so often 
likened to streams, and that the icy torrent, though its 
motion be utterly imperceptible to the naked eye, still 
presses forward with a constant, steady and irresistible 



356 



GLACIER MOTION. 



force. This fact, long unnoticed by naturalists, is now 
universally recognised. 

The reality of glacier motion was first incontrovertibly 
established by the observation of the fact that large and 
conspicuous rocks, resting upon the surface of the ice, 
changed their position, with respect to landmarks upon 
the adjacent mountain sides, and by the otherwise inex- 
plicable circumstance that the blocks of which moraines are 
composed often belong to geological formations occurring 
only in spots far distant among the highest peaks, which 
crown the summit of the glacier. 

In the year 1827, M. Hugi, of Soleure, in order to pro- 
secute some geological and meteorological researches upon 
the glaciers of Lauteraar and Pinsteraar, erected a cabin of 
white granite on the moraine formed by their junction, 
near the foot of the rock called the Abschwung. His stay 
there appears not to have been sufficiently prolonged to 
force upon his observation any change of the position of 
his hut; but in 1839, M. Agassiz, upon repairing to the 
same spot, found it 4400 feet below its original position, 
and again in 1840, 200 feet lower. Between 1827 and 
1839, M. Hugi had himself revisited the station, and had 
left in a bottle, within the cabin, a slip of paper, stating 
that in 1830 he had found it some hundreds of feet below 
its original position, and that in 1836 he had measured the 
distance, and found it to be 2028 feet. 

In 1832, whilst pursuing his way to the Jardin, Pro- 
fessor Forbes found, on the Mer de Glace, the broken 
remains of a ladder, which, for various reasons, he con- 
cluded to be the one used, forty-four years before, 



FORBES's OBSERVATIONS. 



357 



by de Saussure, in his celebrated excursion to the Col du 
Geant. The ladder had probably been left at the foot of 
the Aiguille Noire, and after making due allowance for the 
curvature of the glacier along its channel, this gives a dis- 
tance of about 13,000 feet, or a mean annual motion of 
about 300 feet. 

To M. Agassiz is due the honour of having recorded the 
first exact and systematic examination of the question. In 
1840, he erected, near to the remains of the cabin of 
M. Hugi, a hut, commonly known as the " Hotel des 
Neufchatelois," from which point observations were regu- 
larly made as to the progression of the ice. 

The most detailed and exact results, however, are those 
obtained by Professor Eorbes, who, in the months of June, 
July, August and September, 1842, made a series of ela- 
borate and careful experiments upon the Mer de Glace of 
Chamouni. These experiments extended, not only to the 
question of the relative rapidity of the movement, at diffe- 
rent seasons, and during the day and night, but to the 
comparative velocities of different parts of the same glacier 
— of the velocity at the source, as compared with that at 
the middle and lower extremity, and of the velocity at the 
centre, as compared with that at the sides. The total annual 
motion of the Mer de Glace was found to be about 480 
feet, an estimate which may be fairly taken to represent 
also the average movement of other ice- streams. It was 
likewise demonstrated that the motion of the centre of the 
glacier is swifter than that of the sides, and that the velo- 
city of the higher parts is exceeded by that of the lower. 

The most remarkable and important general conclusions 
of fact, however, were the following : that "thawing weather 



358 GRAVITATION THEORY. - 

and a wet state of the ice conduce to its advancement, 
while cold, whether sudden or prolonged, checks its pro- 
gress and that there was a " general and simultaneous" 
connexion between the amount of motion observed, and 
the mean monthly temperature at Geneva and the Great 
St. Bernard, during corresponding periods — heat invariably 
accelerating, while cold as certainly retarded, the progres- 
sion of the glacier. These two general deductions — which 
observation established beyond a doubt — are invaluable, as 
affording the means of testing the correctness of the two 
principal theories which have been put forward to explain 
the phenomena of glacier motion. 

Whatever theory be adopted, in regard to the precise 
force which urges a glacier through its channel, it is read- 
ily observed, how the straining and contortion of the mass 
among the sinuosities of its bed necessarily produce the 
crevasses which constitute so striking a feature of glacier 
conformation, and how, as a result of the different states 
of consolidation of the successive additions to its bulk, 
combined with the variation in the velocity of each por- 
tion of the stream, there are exhibited, wherever a section 
of the ice can be obtained, either vertically or horizontally, 
indications of a decided and peculiar stratification — the 
bands or layers of ice being contorted into characteristic 
curves. 

The first hypothesis proposed to explain these phenomena 
was that of de Saussure, known as the " Gravitation 
theory." 

It represents a glacier as a body essentially rigid and 
inflexible, which slides along its channel, simply in virtue 
of its own weight. 



DILATATION THEORY. 



359 



There are, however, palpable and fatal objections to 
this view ; for, if it were correct, it follows that any sud- 
den increase in the inclination of its bed would be indi- 
cated by a proportionally sudden acceleration of the motion 
of the glacier ; in fact, that the motion of any given point 
upon its surface would be irregular, instead of uniform. 
Moreover, in accordance with known mechanical laws, 
such a mass must increase continually in velocity, until it 
became, at length, a vast avalanche, more particularly in 
the case where the bed has an inclination of 20° or 30°. 

After an interval of many years, another and more inge- 
nious theory was propounded by Charpentier. Of this — 
the " Dilatation theory," as it is called, which has been 
more fully developed and warmly upheld by Agassiz — the 
following is an outline : 

The ice of glaciers is traversed, in every direction, by 
capillary fissures and air cavities ; which, during the heat 
of the day, become filled with water, melted from the sur- 
face, which remains there, " ready to be converted into ice 
by parting with the very small portion of heat which it 
contains." During the night, this water freezes, and, in 
consequence of its expansion during congelation, the entire 
mass of the glacier undergoes a certain dilatation, the effect 
of which is to produce a forward motion of the body of the 
glacier, in the direction of least resistance. 

It will be at once evident that this hypothesis is wholly 
incompatible with the fact conclusively established by Pro- 
fessor Eorbes, that heat invariably accelerates, and cold as 
constantly retards, the progress of the glacier, no less than 
with the results of observations made by Agassiz himself 
on the temperature of the ice, for some depth below its sur- 



360 



DILATATION THEORY. 



face, as registered by himself and his party, at their station 
on the Aar glacier. At a depth of seven or eight French 
feet below the surface, and downwards, the mercury never 
rose above the freezing point — any changes in the actual 
temperature of the ice being, in truth, entirely superficial 
and insignificant. 

If it be true, then, that water, in becoming ice, parts 
w T ith a very small quantity of heat, how is it enabled thus 
to remain in contact, during the day, with surfaces at and 
below the freezing point, without almost instantly losing 
that small degree of heat, and being frozen ? But the fact 
is, that a pound of water at 32° Fahrenheit, in becoming 
a pound of ice at 32°, parts with a very large amount of 
heat. Every one has noticed the long period often required 
for the gradual liquefaction of a large mass of ice or snow ; 
and the vast supply of heat thus poured in, to produce the 
fluid state, is not lost or dissipated, but becomes " latent" 
in its mass. If the melted water be then frozen once 
more, this large quantity of heat is again given out, and 
becomes appreciable, so that the degree of cold necessary 
to produce congelation in a given weight of water is 
measured by the amount of heat required to melt the same 
weight of ice. Experiment, how T ever, has shown that, in 
the congelation of water, as much heat is given out as 
would raise its temperature, if it could be so applied, by 
142° Eahrenheit. 

There is, therefore, no reason to believe that the water 
infiltrated into the capillary fissures of the glacier is 
subject to periodical congelation, in the manner assumed by 
this theory — at any rate, to such an extent as to be capable of 
producing the motion observed. The relative velocities at 



SUGGESTION OF MR. MOSELEY. 



361 



different times, and in various parts of the glacier are also 
at variance with the requirements of this hypothesis. 

The latest attempt that has been made to connect glacier 
motion with some general principle adequate to explain its 
peculiarities is to be found in the "Proceedings of the 
Boyal Society" for 1855, p. 333. It relies mainly upon the 
ordinary law of expansion among solids. Mr. Moseley, 
the author of this suggestion, quotes, as an apt illustration, 
an instance in which a large sheet of lead, on the roof of 
Bristol Cathedral, by its alternate expansion and contraction, 
drew the fastenings out of the beams, and descended bodily, 
in the course of two years, a distance of about eighteen 
inches, towards the lower edge of the roof. 

The theory, however, wholly fails to explain the general 
progression of glacier streams, inasmuch as the action 
attributable to expansion can be, at most, wholly super- 
ficial; nor does it seem adequate to account for any of 
those distinctive peculiarities inherent to the structure of 
glacier ice. 

It remains only to notice the theory proposed by Pro- 
fessor Porbes, to whose precise, mathematically accurate 
experiments allusion has been so often made. It is an 
hypothesis which explains so consistently every fact in 
the history and phenomena of glaciers, as well in its 
minutest details, as in its broadest features, and is, at 
the same time, so admirably simple, as almost to have 
lost its speculative character, and taken its stand among 
geological certainties. 

It is thus enunciated : — " A glacier is an imperfect 
fluid, or a viscous body, and is urged down slopes of a 
certain inclination, by the mutual pressure of its parts. 3i 

R 



3G2 



" viscous" theory. 



Now, upon reading this definition, the mind is involun- 
tarily startled by the description of a glacier as a semi- 
fluid body ; ice, in the mass in which we are accustomed 
to see it, appears so devoid, of elasticity, that the con- 
ception of its viscosity presents, undoubtedly, at first 
sight, a formidable difficulty. We must, however, bear 
in mind, that we observe among some bodies, such as tar 
or plaster, every conceivable degree of cohesion, from 
that of almost perfect fluidity to that of solidity, without 
being able to draw a distinct line of demarcation between 
the several grades through which they pass. Stockholm 
pitch has been proved (Phil. Mag. for March, 1845), to 
move with extreme slowness under its own weight, when 
so far solid as to break into fragments under the blows 
of a hammer. 

Every one is familiar with the elasticity — often consi- 
derable — exhibited by the thin sheets of ice which cover 
our ponds and pools, in the winter, as they bend and swell 
beneath the passing weight of the skater ; and the follow- 
ing experiment, devised by Mr. Christie (the late Secretary 
to the Royal Society), clearly demonstrates that "under 
great pressures, ice preserves a sufficient degree of moulding 
and self-adapting power to allow it to be acted upon as 
if it were a pasty mass/'' 

A strong iron shell, with a small fuse-hole, was filled 
with water, and then exposed to severe cold. As the 
congelation of the mass proceeded, the ice inside was 
forced out through the aperture, in a narrow cylinder, 
gradually increasing in length, until all the water was 
solidified. "As we cannot doubt that an outer shell of 
ice is first formed, and then another within, the continued 



EXPERIMENTS. 



363 



rise of the column through the fuse-hole must proceed 
from the squeezing of successive shells, concentrically 
formed, through the narrow orifice ; and yet the protruded 
cylinder consists of entire, not of fragmentary, ice." 

When we take into consideration the minuteness of 
the motion of glaciers, as compared with the entire length 
of their mass, it is now less difficult to conceive how the 
vast mutual pressure of their particles may produce a 
degree of viscosity, or semi-fluidity, actual, and sufficient to 
generate the phenomena observed, though inappreciable 
and apparently disproved by the evidence of the senses, 
and only to be discovered by minnte, accurate and philo- 
sophical observation. 

The peculiarities of glacier motion exactly fulfil, in every 
particular, the conditions well known to mathematicians 
as those of the flow of semi-fluid substances ; such, for 
example, as the greater velocity in the centre, than at the 
sides of the stream, and in the lower, than in the upper, 
portions. 

The curves observed in the stratification of glaciers 
are precisely similar to those exhibited in the structure 
of bodies admitted to be viscous while in motion. It 
occurred to Professor Forbes to imitate the movements of 
glaciers, in those of a substance capable of flowing with 
extreme slowness, and ultimately solidifying ; for this pur- 
pose, he employed a mixture of glue and plaster of Paris, 
and by allowing alternate layers of this mixture, coloured 
dmerently, to flow down a slightly inclined plane — a mimic 
glacier channel — obtained casts, presenting, in their sections, 
curves which resemble, in a very striking degree, those 
actually seen in the Swiss glaciers. 

E 2 



364 



MIMIC GLACIERS. 



The experiment is easily verified/ and the sections of the 
models thus formed, vertical to the direction of motion, 
will be seen to present the characteristic concave curves 
so conspicuous in several of the Swiss ice -streams, while 
those taken horizontally exhibit elongated curves, whose 
convexity is in the direction of motion, and the surface 
itself is traversed by crevasses in miniature, whose general 
disposition pretty accurately represents what is seen on the 
actual glacier. 

This very close resemblance between the structure of 
glaciers and that of bodies undoubtedly semi-fluid or 
viscous in their character, while in gradual motion, affords, 
at least, a very strong presumption that the same mechani- 
cal conditions which produce the phenomena of the latter 
prevail also in the case of the former ; it is, in fact, not 
only a beautiful illustration, but a pointed and decisive 
confirmation, of the theory. 

A few words may not be out of place, as to the part 
which glaciers have played in the geological history of 
our globe. 

The occurrence of rocky fragments, or boulders, (erratic 
blocks as they are called) whose appearance and con- 
formation are precisely analogous to that of the masses 
which compose modern moraines, at distances remote from 
any spot where the same geological structures are found in 

* I have not myself repeated the experiment, bnt I have seen it 
performed by one of my brothers who was desirous of testing its 
accuracy. The reproduction, in miniature, of many of the most 
remarkable and significant phenomena of the glaciers is very curious 
and interesting. The results which I saw were in exact and minute 
accordance with those described by Professor Forbes. 



ERRATIC BLOCKS. 



365 



situ, has given rise to a remarkable theory, broached by 
MM. Yenetz and Charpentier, and now strenuously 
supported by that illustrious philosopher, M. Agassiz, and 
by our own no less illustrious Forbes. 

The celebrated Pierre-a-Bot, near Neufchatel, of which 
the length is from 50 to 60 feet, with a breadth of 20 
feet, and a height of 40 feet, is composed of protogine, 
a granite common in the Alps, which contains talc in place 
of mica, but not found in situ within 60 or 70 miles, 
as the crow flies, from the spot where this block now 
stands. In the valley of St. Maurice, Professor Porbes 
tells us, are seen what are known as the "blocks of 
Monthey/' a collection of " blocks of granite 30, 40, 
50, and 60, feet in the side — not a few, but by hundreds, 
fantastically balanced on the angles of one another, their 
grey weather-beaten tops standing out in prominent relief 
from the verdant slopes of secondary formation on which 
they rest. The blocks are piled one on another, the 
greater on the smaller, leaving deep recesses between, in 
which the flocks, or their shepherds, seek relief from 
the snow storm, and seem not hurled by a natural ca- 
tastrophe, but as if balanced in sport by giant hands. 
Por how came they thus to alight upon the steep, and 
there remain? What force transported them, and when 
transported, thus lodged them high and dry, 500 feet at 
least above the plain? We reply, a glacier might do 
this : what other inanimate agent could do it, we know 
not."* 

Now, such fragments not only occur in Switzerland, at 



* " Travels through the Alps," p. 52. 



366 



GLACIERS IN WALES. 



spots eighty, ninety, and a hundred, miles from any strata of 
similar geological character — not only do they appear all 
over the great Swiss plain, and upon the flanks of the 
Jura opposite Mont Elanc, but in the " drift" of the 
south-east of our own country, in Scotland, where they 
are accompanied by the most distinct and characteristic 
glacier striations, and on the shores of the Baltic, and 
in Eussia and Denmark. 

The supporters of the theory now under consideration 
maintain that glaciers are the only agents capable of 
producing the effects in question, and that at a remote 
geological era, an enormous system of glaciers covered the 
Swiss plain, as well as a large portion of the European 
continent. "We have not far to seek for an overwhelming 
weight of testimony, that at some former period, glaciers 
existed in many parts of the world, where the conditions 
of climate now totally prohibit their formation. The rocky 
sides of almost every valley in the neighbourhood of 
Snowdon are notched and scored with striae, identical in 
every particular with those which are to be seen on the 
cliffs which border the Mer de Glace, or flank the passage 
of the Grimsel. Not only are such indications to be found 
at Pont-Aber-Glassllynn and in the Yale of Llanberris, but 
they may be traced far below Lake Ogwen, in the Yale of 
Nant Francon, and are exhibited with remarkable vigour 
and distinctness throughout the pass of Nant Gwynant, 
and up the valley which falls into it on the North, as far as 
the very base of Snowdon and the foot of Grib Goch, the 
great red peak which flanks Snowdon on the North-east. 
Rockers moutonnes, as characteristic and unmistakeable as 
those of the Hollenplatte or the Gorner Gletscher, are to 



GLACIERS IN WALES. 



367 



be seen between Capel Curaig and Beddgelert,"* and I have 
traced them, by the side of the high road, to within five 

* Whilst this sheet was passing through the press, I received a 
letter from my brother, (before alluded to as having repeated some of 
Professor Porbes's experiments) who was travelling in N. Wales, in 
which he says : — "Last night, I had a fine ramble over the hills form- 
ing the Western side of the Pass of Beddgelert, where I took some 
pains to examine the rounded rocks which abound, right up to the 
summits. Indeed, they are most striking very nearly at the top, being 
there nearly as smooth as at the Hollenplatte, near Handeck, and par- 
ticularly in one part, where there is a fir- wood full of them. But 
they descend quite to the road, and have throughout the charac- 
teristics of glacier rocks — the roundness, so distinct from that 
produced by water, and the striations, not always parallel to one 
another, and slanting downwards at about 40°; not possible to be 
confounded with marks of stratification, as they cross these at a 
considerable angle. Some of these slabs are, I think, forty feet 
high, and very smooth." He encloses a sketch of some, so charac- 
teristic that I much regret there has not been time to engrave it. 
He adds : " the abrasion of these rocks is evident from the fact that 
the veins of quartz which runs through them project, in places, 
nearly half an inch. The rock is slaty or shaly, intersected by veins 
of quartz and lodes of copper ore." In a subsequent letter, (dated 
June 1, 1856), he adds, "I explored this morning the deep valley 
flanked, on the right, or North side, by the precipitous crags of 
Trifaen, and hemmed in, on the other side and at the head, by a 
long curved spur of Glydyr Fawr. I left the road about three miles 
and a half from Capel Curaig, and one and a half from Lake Ogwen, 
and mounted a grassy ridge, covered in parts with large stones, and 
in others with bogs. Here and there, particularly on the sides of 
a water-course, are large slabs of rock, apparently rounded or 
smoothed by glaciers, and striated very distinctly, in places. Upon 
crossing the ridge, you look straight up the valley, the bottom o 
which is very boggy, with rounded rocks projecting here and there. 



368 



IMMENSE GLACIER SYSTEMS. 



miles of Bangor. This is but one example out of scores : 
the sides of Ben Nevis bear testimony, equally irrefragable, 
to the reality of a period, in which the snow-level was 
many thousands of feet lower than at present. Seeing, 
therefore, that it is undeniable that extensive glacier 
systems must once have had a place, in countries from 
which they have altogether disappeared, there is little 
difficulty in admitting that in districts where they still 
occupy hundreds of square miles, they may, in former 
ages, have existed on a scale infinitely more stupendous 
than anything of which the present condition of the globe 
affords an example. 

The theory in question, therefore, does not seem to make 
too large demands on our imagination, when it asserts, in 
the language of M. Agassiz, that "at this time, all the 
glaciers of the lateral ravines of the Valais were mingled at 
the bottom of the great plain ; all those of the Bernese 

Higher up is a series of faces of rock, flat, smooth and in places 
rounded, projecting from the turfy ground, and continued on the 
South side, 100 or 200 feet up the flanks of the valley, while on the 
North side, several remarkable terraces of rock extend to an equal 
height along the base of Trifaen. I was at first in some doubt as to 
the glacial origin of these rocks, the stratification running just in 
the direction in which the striae would He, and the unequal hardness 
of the rock causing it to assume a very rough and lined appearance, 
but after a few minutes' search I found some harder faces of rock, 
among the slabs, completely marked with long striations — perfect for 
8 or 10 feet without interruption — running transversely to the 
stratification, and wholly different and characteristic. I am aston- 
ished at the universality of these traces, in all the principal valleys 
abutting on Snowdon, Trifaen, &c ." 



VAST PERIODS. 



369 



Oberland reached the basin of the Lakes of Thun and 
Brientz ; those of the Grisons extended to the principal 
valley of the Ehine ; those of the Yalteline, to the basin 
of the Lake of Como; and lastly, those of Canton Tessin 
descended to the Lago Maggiore." 

Other causes have been assigned, to account for the wide- 
spread distribution of erratic blocks, and many eminent 
names lend authority to the theory, which supposes great 
debacles, or floods of waters, to have been the agents of 
their transportation; but the occurrence of boulders in 
positions in which it is quite inconceivable that water should, 
under any circumstances, deposit them, the absence of all 
sorting, according to weight, among them, the sharpness of 
their edges — so completely in contrast with the rounded 
appearance usually produced by the action of streams — and 
various other circumstances connected with their condition 
and situation seem strongly to discountenance such a sup- 
position. 

That the force of glaciers, even of ordinary size, is 
abundantly sufficient to produce these results, and is capable 
of transporting masses of rock of almost unlimited size, is 
beyond doubt; and the enormous bulk of the moraines 
of modern and now-active glaciers (e. g. that of the glacier 
de Miage, which reaches a height of 400 feet) sufficiently 
attests the vastness of its effects. 

The phenomena of glacier action bear witness, in common 
with all others of a similiar character, to the stupendous 
magnitude of the periods representing those great changes 
winch have from, age to age, modified our earth's surface. 
Some of these must be reckoned — if such a word can be 

a 3 



370 



VAST PERIODS. 



used in regard to numbers too vast to convey to the bewil- 
dered sense any definite idea — not by years, but by myriads 
of ages, and even the time necessary for the transport of 
some of the erratic blocks of the Jura to their final position 
must be counted by thousands of years. 



APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX. 



The following lists of plants have been kindly supplied me by 
a friend, with whom. I had the pleasure of travelling for six weeks 
during my tour in 1852, and who has botanized many parts of 
Switzerland with great diligence. They do not profess, by any 
means, to exhaust the neighbourhoods under which they are classed, 
but still they afford some guide as to a few of the rarer and 
more interesting plants likely to be found in the several localities, 

INTERXiAKEN. 

Aconitum lycoctonum. 

„ napellus. 
Actaea spicata. 
Alchemilla fissa. 

Androsace chamsejasme, (Wengern Alp). 
Anthericum ramosum. 

„ Liliago. 
Aquilegia atrata, ( Yalley of Lauterbrunnen). 

„ Alpina, (on the Faulhorn). 
Arabis Alpina, (Wengern Alp). 
Aster Alpinus, (Wengern Alp). 
Campanula barbata. 

„ rhomboidalis, (Yalley of Lauterbrunnen). 
Coronilla emerus. 



374 



APPENDIX. 



Cyclamen Europaeum, (woods on the shores of the Lake of Than). 
Czackia liliastrum. 
Daphne mezereum. 
Dianthus superbus. 

„ sylvestris. 
Digitalis lutea. 

„ grandiflora. 
Draba aizoides. 

Dryas octopetala, (rocks north of the Lake of Brientz). 
Erica carnea, (south side of the Lake of Thun, on the borders of the 
woods). 

Erinus Alpinus, (rocks at the foot of the Harder). 
Gentiana acaulis, (Wengern Alp). 

„ asclepiadea, (in the woods). 

„ ciliata. 

„ cruciata, (south shore of the Lake of Brientz). 
„ lutea, (Wengern Alp). 

„ pneumonanthe, (in the marshes on the borders of the 
Lakes of Thun and Brientz). 

„ verna. 
Geranium palustre. 

„ sanguineum, (at the foot of the Harder) . 
Globularia cordifolia, (foot of the Harder). 

Goodyera repens, (woods north of the Lake of Thun, about a mile 
above Neuhaus). 

Helianthemum fumana, (rocks on north shore of the Lake of Thun, 

a mile and a half from Neuhaus). 
Hepatica triloba, (in most of the woods). 
Hippophse rhamnoides, (south shore of the Lake of Brientz). 
Impatiens Noli me tangere, (Valley of Lauterbrunnen). 
Lactuca perennis, (near the cavern of St. Beat, above the Lake of Thun). 
Linaria Alpiua (close to the lower glacier of Grind el wald). 
Luzula albida. 
Maianthemum bi folium. 

Melittis melissophyllum, (near the cavern of St. Beat, above the 
Lake of Thun). 



APPENDIX. 



375 



Moehringia muscosa, (Valley of Lauterbrunnen). 
Nigritella angustifolia, (Orchis nigra — Wengern Alp). 
Ophrys apifera. 
Orobus tuberosus. 
Physalis Alkekengi. 

Poly gala chamsebuxus, (borders of woods on south side of the Lake 

of Thun, near where the river enters the lake). 
Potent ilia argentea, (Valley of Lauterbrunnen). 
Primula auricula, (rocks in the valley above Lauterbrunnen). 

villosa. 
Prunella grandinora. 
Pyrola secunda, (in the woods). 

„ uniflora, (Valley of Lauterbrunnen). 
Rhododendron ferrugineum. 
Salvia glutinosa. 

Saponaria ocymoides, (rocks just above the river on north side). 
Saxifraga rotundifolia, (on the road to the Abendberg). 
Silene acaulis. 

„ nutans. 
Spira aruncus, (borders of the woods). 
Tetragonolobus siliquosus. 
Teucrium montanum. 
Thalictrum aquilegifolium. 
Trifolium Alpinum, (Wengern Alp). 
Vaccinium myrtillus. 
Viola biflora, ( Valley of Lauterbrunnen). 



GHEMMI. 



Androsace Alpina. 

„ chamsejasme. 

„ Helvetica. 

„ obtusifolia. 
Anthericum ramosum. 
Aquilegia Alpina. 



376 



APPENDIX. 



Arabis Alpina. 

„ puraila. 
Arctostaphylos Alpina. 

„ uva-ursi. 
Aster Alpimis. 
Astrantia major. 

„ minor. 
Botrychium lunaria. 
Bupleurum ranunculoides. 
Campanula barbata. 

„ linifolia. 
Carex atrata. 
„ ferruginea. 

„ foetida, (near Schwarenbach . 
„ nigra. 
„ ovalis. 
Cerastium Alpinum. 

„ latifolium, (on descent of Gliemmi). 
Circsea Alpina, (Kandersteg). 
Cotoneaster tomentosa. 

„ vulgaris, (Kandersteg). 
Crocus vernus. 
Cystopteris Alpina. 

„ dentata. 
Diantlius atrorubens. 
Digitalis grandinora. 
lutea. 

Epilobium rosmarinifolium, (Kandersteg). 

Erica carnea. 

Eriophorum Alpinum. 

Euphrasia Alpina. 

Galium Helveticum. 

Gentiana acaulis. 

„ Bavarica. 

„ ciliata. 

„ glacialis, (Schwarenbach). 



APPENDIX. 



Gentiana nivalis. 

„ verna. 
Geum montanum. 

„ reptans, (near the Daubensee). 
Hedysarum obscnrum. 
Juncus Jacqnini. 

„ triglumis. 
Linuni tennifolium, (near Leuk). 
Lycopodium selago. 

„ selaginoides. 
Myosotis Alpestris. 
Nigritella angustifolia, (Orchis nigra). 
Oxytropis montana. 

„ Uralensis. 
Pedicularis adscendens. 

„ foliosa, (near Kander&teg). 

„ verticillata. 
Phyteuma hemisphsericum. 

„ orbicular e. 
Polypodium phegopteris. 
Polystichum lonchitis. 
Potentilla aurea. 

" minima. 
Primula farinosa. 

„ villosa. 
Rhamnus Alpinus. 

„ pumilus. 
Salix herbacea. 
„ reticulata. 
„ retusa. 
Saxifraga androsacea, 

„ aspera. 

„ aizoides. 

„ ccEsia. 

„ muscoides. 

„ oppositifolia. 



378 



APPENDIX. 



Saxifraga stellaris. 
Sedum atratum. 

„ dasyphylhim. 
Silene acaulis. 

„ quadridentata, (near Kandersteg). 

„ rupestris. 
Soldanella Alpina. 
Tetragonolobus siliquosus. 
Trifolium Alpinum. 
Valeriana montana. 
Yeronica Alpina. 

aphylla. 
„ bellidioides. 

„ Teucrium, (near Daubensee). 
Viola calcarata. 



ZERMATT. 

Androsacea carnea. 
„ glacialis. 
„ imbricata, (rare). 
„ obtusifolia. 
Anemone Alpina. 

„ baldensis. 

„ Halleri. 

„ snlphurea. 

„ vernalis. 
Anthericnm liliago. 
Aqnilegia Alpina, (rare). 

„ atrata, (Valley of St. Nicholas). 
Aronica scorpioides. 
Arnica montana. 
Artemisia glacialis. 

„ lanata. 
Astragalus Monspessulanus. 



APPENDIX. 



379 



Astragalus pseudo-tragacantha. 
Bupleurum graminifolium. 

„ ranunculoides. 

„ stellatum. 
Campanula barbata. 

„ cenisia. 
Colchicum Alpinum. 

Cotoneaster vulgaris, (Valley of St. Nicholas). 
Chrysanthemum Alpinum. 

Daphne mezereum, (large quantities in Valley of St. Nicholas). 
Draba aizoides. 

„ tomentosa. 
Erysimum Helveticum. 
Gentiana acaulis. 

„ amarella. 

„ brachyphylla. 

„ Bavarica. 

„ campestris. 

„ Germanica. 

„ glacialis, (the tenella of some). 

'„ imbricata. 

„ lutea. 
nivalis. 

„ pumila. 

„ purpurea. 

„ utriculosa. 

„ verna. 
Globularia cordifolia. 

„ vulgaris. 
Gregoria vitaliana, (very rare). 

Hepatica triloba, (with variety alba, below Zermatt, where the last 

bridge crosses the river). 
Hutchinsia rotundifolia. 
Lactuca perennis. 
Leontopodium Alpinum. 
Lilium martagon, (Valley of St. Nicholas). 



380 



APPENDIX. 



Linaria Alpina. 

Lychnis Alpina, (Riffelberg). 

Myosotis nana, (Eritrichum nanum — very rare). 

„ rupicola. 
Nigritella angustifolia, (Orchis nigra). 
Onosma montannm, (below Stalden). 
Oxytropis Uralensis. 
Pedicularis comosa. 

„ rostrata. 
Phytenma betonicaefolium. 

„ hemisphsericum. 
Pinguicnla Alpina. 

Pinus cembra, (a forest of these trees lies between Zermatt and the 
Zmutt glacier. The kernel of the fruit is used as dessert). 

Primula farinosa, (in vast quantities on boggy hill-side near Findelen 
glacier). 

„ longiflora, (very rare). 
„ viscosa. 
Ranunculus glacialis. 
„ Pyrenseus. 
„ rutifolius. 
Rhamnus Alpinus. 
„ pumilus. 

Saxifraga androsacea, (the marmot is extremely fond of feeding on 
the flower-stalk and seed-vessels of this plant, so that it is seldom 
found without these being nibbled off). 
Sempervivum arachnoideum. 

„ montanum. 
Senecio incanus. 

„ uniflorus. 
Silene acaulis. 

Stipa pennata, (below Zermatt, where the last bridge crosses the 

river). 
Thlaspi Alpestris. 
Trifolium Alpinum. 
Trollius Europeeus. 



APPENDIX. 



331 



Veronica Alpina. 

„ bellidioides. 
Viola pinnata, (very rare). 

[The neighbourhood of Zermatt is one of the very richest in Alpine 
botanical rareties. 

The ancient moraine of the Findelen glacier abounds in many 
rare plants ; also the lower range of the Untere Rothhorn]. 



COL DE BALME. 

Allium fallax. 
Anemone Alpina. 

„ sulphurea. 
Bulbocodium vernum. 
Cerastium Alpinum. 
Chrysanthemum Alpinum. 
Draba aizoides. 
Erythronium dens-canis. 
Gentiana acaulis. 

„ Alpina. 

„ Bavaria. 

„ lutea. 

„ nivalis. 

„ purpurea. 

„ verna. 
Geum montanum. 
Hedysarum obscurum. 
Hieracium aurantiacum. 
Ornithogalum fistulosum. 
Orchis albida. 
Pedicularis comosa. 
Phaca astragalina. 
Polygonum viviparum. 
Ranunculus glacialis. 
Rosa Alpina. 



382 



APPENDIX, 



Salix herbacea. 

„ reticulata. 
Saxifraga androsacea. 

„ oppositifolia. 
Silene acaulis. 
Valeriana montaua. 
Veronica Alpina. 

„ bellidioides. 
Viola palustris. 



CHAMOUNI. 

Allosurus crisp us. 
Aspleniuni Germanicum. 

„ Halleri, (near Cluses). 

„ septentrionale. 

„ viride. 

Astrantia minor, (said to give the peculiar flavour to the Chamouni 

honey ; but this is very questionable) . 
Asarum Europseum, (between Cluses and Bonneville). 
Azalea procumbens. 

Botrycliiuni rutifolium, (fir woods in the meadows towards the source 

of the Arveiron). 
Campanula barbata. 
„ pusilla. 

Convallaria bifolia, (woods between Chamouni and the Montanvert). 

„ polygonata, (rocks at the back of the hotel at Servoz). 
Cyathea regia. 

Cystopteris xilpina, (La Elegere). 
Epilobium rcsmarinifolium. 
Erinus Alpinus. 
Geum montanum. 
Lloydia serotina. 
Lnzula lutea. 

„ nivea, (woods near the Montanvert). 



APPENDIX. 



383 



Lycopodiuin Helveticum. 

Nigritella angustifolia, (Orchis nigra). 

Poljpodium dryopteris. 

„ Rhaeticum. 
Poteiitilla aurea. 

„ frigida. 
Pyrola minor. 

„ uniflora, (woods in the meadows near the source of the 
Arveiron). 
Ranunculus Alpestris. 
„ giacialis. 

Rhododendron ferrugineuni, (commonly called the Alpine rose). 
Saxifraga Bucklandi, (rocks between Chamouni and the Montanvert). 
Trifolium Alpinum. 

„ montanum. 
Tussilago Alpina. 
Veronica Alpina. 
Viola biflora. 

„ calcarata. 
Woodsia hyperborea. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 

[The following plants are thought worth mentioning in connection 
with localities where they are found, or grow freely.] 
Arctostaphylos uva-ursi, (Valley of Saas). 
Artemisia giacialis, (Fee-alp). 

,, nana, (moraine of Alleiein glacier, below the Mattmark- 

see). 

Asplenium Germanicum, (La Burca, in the Val Anzasca). 

Cyclamen Europeeum, (very abundant between Cluses and Maglan). 

Gentiana cruciata, (just below St. Rimy). 

„ lutea, ^ (abundant on the Monte Moro. From these two 
„ purpurea, f Gentians the " Eau de Gentian" is distilled). 



384 



APPENDIX. 



Helianthemum fumanum, (between Val Tournanche and Chatillon). 
Lilinm bulbiferum, (Simplon Pass). 
Melica ciliata, (on dry rocks near Visp). 
Ononis natrix, (Val d'Aosta). 
Pedicularis atrorubens, (Pass of St. Theodule). 
Rhodiola rosea, (a little below the Mattrnarksee, in the Valley of 
Saas) . 

Saxifraga cotyledon, (extraordinarily fine on the Simplon; also on 

the rocks in the Val Anzasca). 
Teucrium marum, (between Val Tournanche and Chatillon). 



THE END. 




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